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“ She seemed to read in his small glittering eyes something fiendlike.” 

Drawn by Modest Stein. 




The 

Breath of the Dragon 


By 

A. H. Fitch 

n 



G. P. Putnam’s Sons 
New York and London 
Gbe fmfcfterbocftet press 
1917 


TP 

fs^ 

■ ? 


Copyright, 1916 
BY 

A. H. FITCH 
Fifth Impression 

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Replacement 



TTbe Itnicfcerbocfcer press, mew #orfc 




Go 

THE MEMORY 
OF 

MY MOTHER 







CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. —An Escape and a Meeting . i 

II. — Tricked ..... 9 

III. — Some Gossip and a Dinner . 25 

IV. — The Beggar Woman ... 33 

V. — A Transformation ... 43 

VI. — The Breath of the Dragon . 57 

VII. — The Great Empress Dowager . 74 

VIII. — The Perils in the Palace . 96 

IX. — The Eunuch’s Story . . .108 

X. — Failure 1 15 

XI. — The Death Sentence . .132 

XII. — The Puppet Emperor Appears . 144 

XIII. — The Summons . . . .175 

XIV. — Imperial Pleasures . . .191 

XV. — A Desperate Midnight Venture 200 

XVI. — The Race 222 

XVII. — Outwitted . . „ ' . . 242 


VI 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVIII. — Betrayed . . ' . . .262 

XIX. — Concerning Palace Eunuchs 

and a Palace Prisoner . 296 

XX. — The Inn of Peace and Security 308 

XXI. — Back to Peking > . . .323 

XXII. — House of the Hens’ Feathers . 340 

XXIII. — The Beggars’ Raid . . . 353 

XXIV. — The Gamblers .... 366 

XXV. — In the Villa . . . .371 

XXVI. — In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 387 

XXVII. — Because of Lla the Bactrian 

Camel 419 

XXVIII. — On the City Wall . . . 438 


The Breath of the Dragon 






■ 
















































» *• 



































The Breath of the Dragon 


CHAPTER I 

AN ESCAPE AND A MEETING 

The house-boat drew near a large village and 
stopped. On the deck of the boat three people 
were leisurely taking afternoon tea. Before them 
stretched the silent, creeping Pei-ho, sinuous as 
a serpent, poisonous as its fangs. 

Upon the opposite bank rose graves, hundreds 
upon hundreds of them, cone-shaped like potato- 
mounds on an Indiana farm. Overhead gleamed 
the blue bowl of the Eastern sky. The elderly 
gentleman, whose interest in afternoon tea was 
less than perfunctory, stared at the cone-shaped 
graves. “Don't think much of the view," he 
said to the girl by his side, and turned his chair 
to face the village. The next moment he was on 
his feet gazing intently on the scene before him. 
The girl put her cup down suddenly and stared 
also. A tall Chinese was racing through the vil- 
lage, at his heels a score or more of soldiers. Be- 


2 


The Breath of the Dragon 


fore they could seize him, he dashed into one of 
the huddled galleried houses lining the street. 
His pursuers battered violently upon the barred 
door. The Americans on the boat could hear 
the loud cracking of the wooden panels. A few 
minutes later they saw the entrance forced and 
the soldiers rush into the house. 

Almost at the same moment a foreigner appeared 
from the rear of the dwelling and sauntered down 
the street toward the landing. 

There was a sense of suppressed excitement in 
the girl’s attitude which was shared by the man 
beside her. 

“Mr. Day!” she exclaimed, “did you see him 
drop from the balcony behind that house?” 

“Yes,” he replied. 

A babble of voices came echoing down the 
street. The soldiers ran from the house again, 
shouting angrily. They were joined by a crowd 
of villagers attracted to the scene by the uproar. 
The foreigner, apparently indifferent to the com- 
motion behind him, continued his leisurely walk 
toward the landing. Betty Danford with diffi- 
culty controlled her excitement. “Why doesn’t 
he hurry!” she exclaimed and moved by an irre- 
sistible impulse she called to him : ‘ ‘ Run ! Run ! ” 

The you^ig man glanced up. He saw a slender 
girl leaning over the boat railing, her pretty face, 
with anxiously parted lips, framed in a large rose- 
trimmed hat. Then he turned and scanned the 
street behind him. 


An Escape and a Meeting 


3 


The soldiers had separated into groups of four. 
Some were examining the neighbouring houses; 
others were racing down the street. One group 
was headed for the landing. 

As the young man approached the boat he lifted 
his hat. “I beg pardon,” he said, addressing Mr. 
Day. “May I ask if you have passed a house- 
boat floating our flag?” He pointed with a 
pleasant smile on his lean, brown face to the Stars 
and Stripes over the cabin roof. “My boat was 
to call for me here,” he explained; “it has failed 
to turn up.” 

“We have not passed a house-boat,” replied 
Mr. Day, throwing a swift comprehensive glance 
at the young man’s attire. It was distinctly un- 
tidy. His appearance was that of a man who had 
dressed in extraordinary haste; his well-fitting 
coat was buttoned high to hide the absence of a 
vest; he was collarless; and his shoes though tied 
were not laced. 

The soldiers had reached the rickety wooden 
pier. “Come aboard,” said Mr. Day with sharp 
abruptness. 

“Thank you,” returned the young man po- 
litely; “I will wait here a few minutes,” and he 
seated himself on the side c r the pier. 

The crew were squatting in the stern of the 
boat absorbed in gambling for their supper. When 
they heard the shouts of the soldiers speeding 
down the pier, they leaped to their feet to watch 
them curiously. 


4 


The Breath of the Dragon 


Betty Danford stood motionless beside her 
companions, her heart throbbing violently. She 
felt afraid for the young man. He however was 
bending down whittling a bit of wood unconcern- 
edly. The soldiers passed him ; to them he was 
only an uninteresting foreigner. They questioned 
the crew in loud shrill tones, and were answered 
indifferently. They scrutinized the face and ap- 
pearance of each man. Not satisfied with this 
inspection, they determined to search the boat. 
The Chinese captain protested vigorously. Betty 
saw the young man on the pier suddenly stop 
whittling and half rise, from his seat, then sink 
back again, his eyes, under his bent head, fixed 
with keen, alert look on the soldiers. The captain 
was pointing to the flag fluttering over the cabin. 
His voice was threatening and indignant; the 
crew endorsed his remarks vociferously. But 
when the soldiers pushed impudently past them 
the young man sprang up and vaulting the low 
railing confronted them on the deck. Mr. Day 
strode toward the soldiers. “Get out of this!” 
he said angrily. His gestures not his words were 
understood. One of the crew seized a huge oar 
to emphasize the command. It failed of its mark 
and descended with force on Mr. Day’s raised arm, 
which fell limply to his side. Filled with con- 
sternation at what he unwittingly had done and 
fearing the wrath of the captain who shrieked 
imprecations at him, the man leaped into the 
river and with swift strokes made for the opposite 


An Escape and a Meeting 


5 


shore. Whereupon the soldiers became convinced 
that the fleeing man was the one they were seek- 
ing. They rushed back to the pier to procure a 
row-boat in which to pursue him. 

The young man sprang to Mr. Day’s side. “ Is 
your arm badly hurt?” he asked. 

“ Broken,” returned the older man laconically, 
while his wife and Betty hovered anxiously and 
helplessly about him. The young stranger, with 
a certain awkward skill, set the injured man’s arm, 
applied splints procured from a wicker basket 
standing on deck, and bound it with strips of table- 
cloth Betty brought from the cabin. As he was 
occupied with this task, Mr. Day said abruptly, 
“Young man, it was you those soldiers were 
after.” 

The remark was received composedly by the 
stranger, nor did he attempt to deny the asser- 
tion. “It is lucky for me they were not as keen 
observers as you,” he replied smiling quietly. 
Then he introduced himself. “My name is John 
Follingsbee. The soldiers you saw are encampd 
beyond the village. They are taking condemned 
prisoners to Tientsin for execution. I heard it 
rumoured that a — that someone for whom I had 
an important message was among the prisoners. I 
went to the camp, but was refused admittance and 
got in by strategy. Unfortunately I was detected 
coming out. The soldiers pursued me to the 
village where I eluded them by running into a 
friend’s house, docking my Chinese clothes, and 


6 


The Breath of the Dragon 


escaping by the rear balcony while they were 
forcing an entrance.” He spoke slowly as if 
giving careful thought to his words. 

Betty’s eyes shone. “Did you succeed in 
delivering the message?” she asked. 

“Message?” he queried, then added quickly — 
“No — not yet.” A reply which might have 
prompted further questionings had not Mr. Day 
swayed unsteadily forward. Follingsbee caught 
him and half led, half carried him to the cabin 
lounge where he soon dropped asleep, exhausted. 
His wife kept watch beside him. 

Out on the deck Betty explained to Follingsbee, 
a little shyly, that she was the daughter of Mr. 
Danford, the newly appointed Minister to China. 
Her father had preceded her to the capital, leav- 
ing her to follow more leisurely with their friends, 
Mr. and Mrs. Day, who after visiting the lega- 
tion intended returning home by way of Japan. 

As they sat and talked together a house-boat 
rounded a bend; it was coming downstream to- 
ward them. “That’s my boat!” exclaimed Fol- 
lingsbee hailing it. 

A note of regret was perceptible in his voice 
when, turning again to the girl, he said: “The part- 
ing of our ways has come. You and your friends 
go to Peking — I go to Tientsin.” 

But Betty’s friends did not go to Peking. Mrs. 
Day, anxious that her husband should have medi- 
cal attendance as soon as possible, determined to 
return to Tientsin and later sail for home. The 


An Escape and a Meeting 7 

decision, though undoubtedly wise for the Days, 
was at best an awkward one for Betty. This was 
duly recognized by her troubled chaperone. It 
was Follingsbee who solved their difficulty. “There 
is a small mission station three miles inland on the 
opposite shore. It may be that the missionaries 
there will be glad of an opportunity to visit their 
confreres in Peking and will accompany Miss 
Danford. In that event my house-boat is of course 
entirely at Mr. Day’s service,” and he volunteered 
to walk to the station and interview the mission- 
aries. His offer was gratefully accepted. The 
boats crossed the river and were tied to the bank. 
Follingsbee, with long, swinging strides went cross- 
country to the mission station. On his return 
he reported the successful result of his visit. The 
missionary and his wife had consented to accom- 
pany Betty and would arrive within an hour or 
two. 

In the meanwhile the Days and their baggage 
were transferred to Follingsbee’s boat, and the 
injured man made comfortable in his new cabin. 
When the missionaries arrived and Betty had 
bidden her friends good-bye, she, turned to Fol- 
lingsbee and said with sweet formality: “When- 
ever you come to Peking, father will be glad to 
see you.” 

It was an erroneous statement though she did 
not know it. 

“And you?” he asked before he could check 
himself. 


8 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Yes, ” she returned smiling. When Betty smiled 
two charming dimples appeared in her soft cheeks. 
Follingsbee was thinking of them as his boat sailed 
down the Pei-ho, a phantom ship in the white 
moonlight. 


CHAPTER II 


TRICKED 

Betty’s boat remained tied to the bank that 
night. An old man had hastened after the mis- 
sionaries with the information that two of their 
flock — the old man’s son and grandson — had been 
dragged to prison. They were falsely accused of 
having assisted Fen-Sha, the young Chinese re- 
former under sentence of death in Tientsin, to 
organize in their Village one of his many “Young 
China Clubs” whose purposes were the promulga- 
tion of progressive ideas obnoxious to the Imperial 
Government. 

The old man besought the missionaries to delay 
their departure for another day and intervene 
with the District Magistrate in behalf of his sons. 
The plea could not be refused. The matter was 
explained to Betty. It was decided that the mis- 
sionaries should leave the boat at daybreak and 
return before the sun was three hours high. 

Betty was sleeping when they left. Her English- 
speaking amah was not. She watched the mis- 
sionaries till they passed from sight. Then she 
sought the captain and informed him that her 
9 


io The Breath of the Dragon 

young mistress commanded him to proceed imme- 
diately on their journey. The woman had her 
own reasons for wishing to avoid further delay. 
A fair breeze was blowing; the sails were set and 
the house-boat made good speed. 

When Betty wakened from her slumbers late 
that morning, the boat was well on its way up the 
river. The amah did not wait for Betty to dis- 
cover the absence of the missionaries, but told her, 
smiling blandly, that they had sent word they 
would be unable to accompany her to Peking as 
their presence, for the next five days, was neces- 
sary at the trial of their converts. And Betty, 
believing her, was as gay and trustful as if her 
father were waiting for her around the next bend 
of the river. The wind sank as the day advanced 
and the crew took to the great oars. They chanted 
the familiar refrain : 

“ Ay-ly-chy-ly 
A-ha-a-ah.” 

Frequently the refrain was echoed from passing 
junks plying up and down the river. The Pei-ho 
represented the great highway connecting Tien- 
tsin with the capital, for the Peking railroad was 
as yet only a tentative suggestion. 

While Betty watched her crew dextrously row- 
ing with long clumsy oars, she suddenly became 
aware of a Chinese man and woman on the near 
bank. They were standing beside a cart. The 
man was waving his arms towards the boat and 


Tricked 


n 


shouting. The amah emerged quickly from the 
cabin and with a little squeal, meant to convey 
surprise, toddled to the railing. She also shouted 
something in shrill falsetto. Then she turned a 
long face to her young mistress. “Belongy two 
piecee cousin — hab ride chop-chop tellee me some- 
ting plenty bad. More better my talkee boat- 
coolies not makee boat walk for likki (a little) time, 
till two piecee cousin talkee my” (talk with 
me). 

The order was given and the amah hurried 
ashore. In a few minutes she returned accom- 
panied by the young woman and explained volubly 
to Betty that her mother, who lived in the neigh- 
bourhood, was sick unto death and had sent for 
her and that her cousin, who was an excellent maid, 
had volunteered to travel to Peking in her place. 
Betty’s protests were unavailing. The woman de- 
clared she must go to her mother. The new amah 
stepped forward and waited silently with downcast 
eyes. She was a girl of Betty’s own age, very 
handsome and with a certain indefinable air which 
somehow did not accord with her humble attire 
or attitude. Betty had never seen a Chinese girl 
like this before; she felt attracted towards her 
and was relieved that this was so, for it was ap- 
parent that she had no choice but to take her. 
The matter being settled, the house-boat again 
sailed up the river. But Betty returned to the 
cabin and with crinkled brow stared out of the 
window. Was the amah's sudden departure a 


12 


The Breath of the Dragon 


trick? Had she deliberately planned to leave her 
in this manner? If so, what had been her object? 
She turned abruptly, determined to question the 
cousin. She saw her swiftly raise the maid’s 
mattress, lying on the floor, and thrust under it 
a small bundle, which till now had not left her 
hands. The amah appeared for the fraction of a 
moment disconcerted. But Betty was too intent 
on her own thoughts to notice her confusion. 
She plied her with questions, receiving no more 
satisfactory reply than a gentle shake of the head. 
The new amah knew no English! To hide her 
consternation Betty returned to the deck and 
resumed her contemplation of the landscape. 
She gazed at the sordid little mud villages squat- 
ting on the muddy banks and the flat plains 
stretching off interminably, punctuated with 
countless graves. She shivered. An indefinable 
oppression seized her. She seemed suddenly 
terribly alone. She thought the furtive-eyed 
boatmen were looking queerly at her. With a 
gasp which was half a sob she realized that she 
was frightened. 

It may be the amah divined something of her 
thoughts, for that night in the cabin she touched 
her gently on the arm and looked at her with an 
expression so kindly and reassuring, Betty felt 
her confidence return. A certain sympathetic 
understanding seemed to spring up between them 
and Betty found that although the new amah was 
ignorant of every duty pertaining to a maid, her 


Tricked 


13 


presence was a pleasure to her. The amah steadily 
refused to appear on deck, but in the cabin she 
did her utmost to entertain her mistress. Once 
she sang in a soft hushed voice : 

tl A tortoise I see on a lotus flower resting, 

A bird mid the reeds and the rushes is resting; 

A light skiff propelled by some boatman’s fair 
daughter. 

Whose song dies away o’er the fast-flowing water. ” 

Betty could not understand the words but she 
liked the rippling melody of the song. She did 
not know that this strangely attractive maid of 
hers was singing a lyric written by the poet Li Po 
of the eighth century, unknown to any but the 
cultured few. 

On the third day the aspect of the country 
changed ; there were wide cultivated fields around 
thriving hamlets and groves of handsome trees 
sheltering the tombs of the rich. Finally they 
reached Tung-chow where canal-boats were sub- 
stituted for the commodious river house-boats. 
The Grand Canal has four levels; at each level 
the traveller has to change boats, mules, and driv- 
ers. Betty’s amah now developed a belated but 
valuable efficiency and this in spite of a toothache 
from which she appeared to be suffering, for she 
had swathed her face in bandages so large her 
features were barely discernible. She engaged 
the boats and superintended the removal of Betty’s 
baggage. Her own small bundle she held carefully 


14 The Breath of the Dragon 

clutched under her arm. A good-natured coolie 
attempted to take it. She turned upon him with 
blazing eyes and a peremptory command to be 
gone. At the fourth level when Betty had changed 
boats for the last stage of her journey and was 
watching the men transfer the baggage, which from 
this point was carried to Peking by carts, the 
amah threw a furtive glance around, then, unob- 
served, swiftly scooped up a handful of dust and 
dropped it in her handkerchief which she carefully 
tied and slipped into her bundle. 

It was an hour later that she suddenly touched 
Betty’s arm and in a low tense voice exclaimed: 
“Peking! Peking!” Betty looked. Before her 
loomed a dark mass, a sombre length of unbroken 
masonry. Nothing indicated the presence of a 
great city beyond. No domes, or minarets, no 
monuments or towers rose above the imprisoning 
wall, its gloomy aspect heightened by tall battle- 
ments guarding every gateway. 

A wide stretch of desolate, sandy road followed 
the length of the wall. 

Near the entrance of the great gates alone were 
tokens of the busy life of the hidden city; clumsy, 
blue-topped carts rumbled in and out; men with 
empty baskets slung on poles across their shoul- 
ders stepped briskly along, deftly dodging the hoofs 
of galloping ponies, whose riders proclaimed 
themselves Mongols by their high fur caps and 
reckless but magnificent horsemanship 

As the boat neared the city, Betty, with an 


Tricked 


15 


expectant smile, watched for the sight of a familiar 
figure, but the amah disappeared in the little cabin. 
When the boat was tied to the bank, Betty ran 
ashore. 

She watched eagerly the approach of a sedan- 
chair, carried by two panting men; she thought 
she recognized the outline of her father’s tall, slim 
figure behind the silk curtains ; the bearers hurried 
past and a yellow-visaged Chinese peered out. 
Only then the thought flashed through her that 
the telegram might have been missent and that 
her father might not know of her arrival. Her 
daintiness shrank as she realized the necessity of 
riding in one of the dirty, shabby carts standing 
near. She eyed the garlic-reeking drivers with 
extreme disgust. “No doubt they are smallpoxy 
too,” she shuddered, then turned to tell her amah, 
in the pantomime language they had come to know 
so well, to engage the services of the cleanest one. 
She was not in sight. Betty went hurriedly on 
board the boat again and looked in the cabin. It 
was empty. The coolies, squatting on the deck 
smoking, stared at her curiously. Betty suddenly 
felt a disinclination to linger there a moment 
longer and hastened ashore. A beggar-woman, 
with dust-covered, dishevelled hair and horrid 
rags, was hobbling off towards the gates. The 
minutes passed and still the amah did not come. 
Betty watched some boys on the opposite bank 
playing a curious game of shuttlecock with their 
feet. A child ran past her flying a kite made of a 


1 6 The Breath of the Dragon 

live cricket fastened to the end of a string. The 
struggling little insect flopped against her cheek in 
its enforced flight. Betty started, and once more 
resumed her eager watch. 

As the minutes lengthened to a quarter of an 
hour, then half an hour, and still no amah came, 
her confidence forsook her. Worn as she was with 
the travels of the day, and afflicted now with a 
sense of isolation, she had a struggle to keep back 
the tears. Unable to direct the cart-man as to 
her destination — even had she the courage to 
trust herself to him — she stood motionless, a 
sickening sense of impotence upon her. The day 
was declining. The whole western horizon was 
throwing forth flames of light, staining the white 
radiance of the clouds with crimson, gold, and 
purple. 

Suddenly she became aware of an increased 
commotion near the gates. Everyone was hasten- 
ing towards the city ; even the child with the living 
kite, who had returned to stare at her, dropped his 
cricket and rushed away with all the speed of his 
little yellow legs. Then she remembered that the 
great gates of the Chinese capital were closed soon 
after sundown. She was dimly conscious that she 
too must hasten towards the city, if she did not 
wish to pass the night beyond the outer walls of 
Peking. Already the stream of ingoing carts and 
men had ceased. She ran swiftly down the sandy 
road and slipped through the ponderous doors as 
they closed behind her with an ominous clang. 


Tricked 


17 


Pressing closely against the side of the deep 
stone-paved archway, Betty waited in the semi- 
obscurity of the place to regain her breath and 
quiet the tumult of her throbbing thoughts. The 
wide thoroughfare before her presented a curious 
scene of noise and confusion. The centre of the 
street, raised sorile two feet above the sides, was 
thronged with men; they were trundling wheel- 
barrows and driving carts; they were astride of 
tiny donkeys, or swaying on the backs of gaunt, 
meek-eyed camels, laden with coal from Tartary; 
they were on rugged ponies and on stately mules, 
and<all were threading their way through the 
crowded space with marvellous dexterity. On the 
sides of the street, pedlars were bawling out their 
wares — barbers were plying their trade or twang- 
ing a species of jew’s-harp to attract customers, — 
beggars were beating their clap dishes before 
gaudily painted shops, where goods were still 
exposed for sale. There was laughing and wran- 
gling among groups of idle men and fighting and 
snarling among mangy dogs. 

Through this mixed multitude Betty knew she 
would never summon courage to pass. With a 
beating heart she left her hiding-place, hoping 
to find on the right or left of the archway a street 
less crowded than this broad avenue. She had 
no alternative but to wander forth in the forlorn 
hope of stumbling on a foreigner who would con- 
duct her in safety to the legation. When she 
stepped from under the protecting arch, a ragged 


1 8 The Breath of the Dragon 

urchin, yellow-faced and impish, noticing her 
frightened looks and shrewdly divining her lost 
condition, shouted with delighted malice, “Quatsi, 
quatsi ” (foreign devil, foreign devil), and by his 
cries attracted other boys, who surrounded her, 
taking up the derisive yell. Several men, drawn 
by idle curiosity, joined the group. They were 
amazed to find the quatsi not a man, but a young 
woman, alone and on foot, and their voices soon 
swelled the shrill chorus of jeers. 

Ere long a large crowd gathered about her. 
There was loud laughing and talking, scoffing and 
joking; a few men, boldly insolent, stooped to 
peer with leering eyes into her white face; others, 
with more curiosity than intended effrontery, 
examined her dress, her hat and gloves, for the 
clothing of a feminine quatsi excited their interest 
in proportion to the rarity of the opportunity 
afforded them for inspecting it. 

Betty, pale with terror, looked wildly around 
for a passing Chinese of the upper class, who, seeing 
her thus harassed by the rude crowd, would, she 
thought, protect her. Two members of the literati 
— their classical calling indicated by large round 
spectacles — were driving by in handsome carts, 
their mafoos, or outriders, brandishing whips and 
shouting “ chichkuang nina" (Lend me your eyes) 
as they cleared the road before them. Betty’s 
pleading cry challenged the attention of the carts’ 
occupants. Their aristocratic serenity was not 
disturbed by troublesome curiosity. With un- 


Tricked 


19 


disguised apathy — a forcible contrast to the lively 
interest displayed by the rabble about her — they 
passed on. 

Fatigue and fright had now exhausted Betty; 
she sank half fainting against the stone facing of 
the archway. In this dazed state she failed to 
notice a man, tall, with a suggestion of muscular 
strength, push his way through the crowd. His 
deep round tones in expostulation rang out above 
the shrill falsetto of the other voices. A shrink- 
ing backward of those near her told of some sudden 
change. 

She saw the tall Chinese hastening towards her, 
stopping only once to plant a vigorous blow on the 
dirty, shaven pate of a yelling priest of Buddha 
whose frightened squeals as he ducked to avoid 
another knock vastly amused the crowd. Betty 
watched the man approach with mingled feelings 
of fear and hope. Would he be friend or foe? 
But when she heard him say in perfect English: 
“Keep close behind me while I clear the road of 
these beggars; I have a cart here,” her overwrought 
nerves like the tension of a too tightly drawn violin 
string gave way and hot tears of relief and weari- 
ness chased each other down her cheeks. He 
steered her safely through the crowd and with 
muscular arms lifted her bodily into the cart, then 
springing on the seat across the shafts, drove 
rapidly from the avenue into one of the numerous 
quiet side streets of the city, keeping the while 
an alert watch to the rear. Neither he nor Betty 


20 


The Breath of the Dragon 


had spoken. Now he turned to her. “You are 
quite safe from further annoyance, Miss Danford.” 

With the mention of her name, Betty flashed 
a quick look at him, then gave a sob of unutter- 
able relief. “Mr. Follingsbee! Oh! I am so 
glad! So glad! How did you reach Peking? 
I didn’t think to find you here!” 

“You didn’t find me — I found you. Priority 
of discovery entitles me to question you first.” 

Betty smiled through her tears as he intended 
she should. 

Then he asked where her companions were 
and why she was alone and on foot in the streets 
of Peking. As Betty related the concatenation of 
circumstances which placed her at the mercy of a 
street rabble the first hour of her arrival in the 
capital, his face grew hard and his mouth shut 
grimly. When she concluded her story, he said: 
“That amah of yours deserved hanging. She lied 
about the message; the missionary — I know the 
type — would not have sent it. She also lied about 
her mother — it is usually the grandmother’s fu- 
neral that serves the purpose. You say the second 
amah disappeared after you arrived?” 

“Yes, and I feel so worried about her. What 
could have happened to her, Mr. Follingsbee?” 

“Nothing; don’t waste your sympathies on her, 
Miss Danford. She was no doubt a Pekingese 
woman and anxious to return here. You fur- 
nished her with an opportunity of so doing 
free of expense; she is now probably engaged in 


Tricked 


21 


explaining her tactics to an admiring home- 
circle. M 

“The wicked little heathen!” exclaimed the girl 
wrathfully. The next minute, however, she shook 
her head and said: “No, I cannot believe she 
would do that. She was so sweet, so altogether 
lovely to look upon,” she added inconsequently. 

“Did you see her leave the boat?” 

“No, and there was not a woman in sight while 
I waited, except a horrid, dirty, beggar-woman.” 

Follingsbee gave a violent start. For a moment 
he did not speak, then he asked carelessly: “The 
amah — the one who disappeared I mean— knew 
English, of course?” 

His face indicated nothing of the tenseness with 
which he waited for her reply. 

“She didn’t know a word of English. We used 
the pantomime language. You have no idea how 
graceful and clever she was.” 

“We’re going into another rut. Watch out!” 
he warned as the cart gave a violent lurch side- 
ways, then righted itself with a jerk. “Good! you 
will soon learn to balance yourself in these fifteenth- 
century vehicles. You said the beggar-woman 
was young?” 

Betty stared in perplexed surprise. “Beggar? 
What beggar?” 

“The one you saw after leaving the boat.” 

“Oh! that woman, I don’t know whether she 
was young or centuries old. I wasn’t interested 
in her, I was too miserable myself.” 


22 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Of course/’ he said gently, and let his dark 
eyes rest a moment upon her pretty face — it had 
a drawn, tired look from the ordeal she had been 
through. “You will soon be home now. That 
gate is the Ha-ta-man it leads into the Tartar 
city where the legations are.” 

“How strange it all seems! Are you sure you 
are not Kublai Khan and this isn’t the thirteenth 
century, and I really am Betty Danford of Sipuaw, 
Illinois?” 

“I can satisfy you on the first point; the second 
I never feel quite sure of myself; the third I am 
more than half inclined to believe is a dream. I 
am not Kublai Khan and to prove it we will shake 
hands. Kublai Khan never did that you know.” 

He gravely extended his hand and Betty, dim- 
pling, let her own rest a fleeting instant within it. 

“You haven’t told me yet how you got to Peking 
before I did,” she reminded him. 

“An hour after I reached Tientsin with your 
friends — who by the way were just in time to 
catch the Japan steamer — I received news which 
compelled me to return immediately to Peking. I 
was lucky enough to fall in with the Customs mail- 
carrier — a Chinese friend of mine — and rode with 
him. The mail travels overland from Tientsin. 
The land route, though it is much worse than the 
river route, is also much shorter.” 

“Do you always dress like — a— like that in 
Peking?” she asked. 

“Not always,” he said smiling, “and never 


Tricked 


23 


when I expect to meet young ladies from Sipuaw, 
Illinois.” 

Mr. Danford was both amazed and delighted to 
see his daughter. As he had supposed her in the 
safe custody of the Days, the absence of specific 
news of their arrival — the telegram reached him 
the following day, the Chinese operator having 
missent it — had caused him no uneasiness. 

Being a gentleman, and in the present instance 
a grateful one, he thanked Follingsbee warmly, 
though he would rather have thanked any other 
man in Peking for the same service rendered. 

He had heard rumours of his young compatriot’s 
mode of life which he did not like. Follingsbee’ s 
Chinese costume did not help to make him forget 
these rumours. The young American disappeared 
periodically without leaving any clue to his where- 
abouts. It was known, however, that he lived 
among the lower-class natives and as one of them. 

When a man persists in doing a thing of this 
kind he soon finds himself, if not exactly shunned 
by his acquaintances, at least never sought, and 
in the end the result is apt to be the same, namely, 
social isolation. To this fact Follingsbee was 
apparently totally indifferent, for he continued to 
disappear whenever he so desired and to reappear 
with perfect composure whenever he was ready. 

When Follingsbee returned to his room that 
night, he drew from his pocket a crumpled letter, 
and spread it out on the table. He read the Chin- 
ese characters twice over, and replacing the letter 


24 


The Breath of the Dragon 


in his pocket, lighted his pipe. He smoked in 
profound meditation for half an hour. Then he 
knocked the ashes from his pipe, and said to him- 
self: “Of course it was A-lu-te. But how the 
deuce am I to find her among all the beggars of 
Peking.” . 


CHAPTER III 


SOME GOSSIP AND A DINNER 

At the Peking Club, the young men of the lega- 
tions and Customs were freely discussing the arrival 
of Miss Betty Danford in their midst. The sub- 
ject was not a new one, but their interest in it 
still continued fresh. 

“They say,” said a Fourth Assistant B. in the 
Customs, “she is a ripping little filly and steps 
beautifully over the traces.” 

“Wonder if those tommy-rot stories about her 
are true?” inquired an aspiring young diplomat. 

“When will this interesting young creature 
appear? Anyone know?” asked a Customs man. 

“Tonight at Lady Caton’s dinner and dance,” 
drawled a sleepy-looking young Englishman. 
“Saw her Ladyship’s chit-book yesterday.” 

“Then I’ll take my first view of her when she is 
in her war paint.” 

“Like a — what do you call it? — jolly little 
squaw,” added a youthful Frenchman. 

“Boy ! ” yelled Captain Bertram, who, ensconced 
in a corner, had been glancing over the latest 
London Times , already a month old. “Bring me a 
35 


26 


The Breath of the Dragon 


whiskey peg.” Then turning to the young men: 
* ‘The eloquence of you youngsters makes my 
throat dry,” he said throwing down the paper. 
‘‘I will mention for your edification that I have 
seen Miss Danford and that she is a young girl 
of breeding and refinement and won’t please you, 
as she is quite without any of your own amiable 
vulgarity.” 

Whereupon the Captain rose leisurely and 
strolled from the room. 

He was the First Secretary of the British Lega- 
tion. 

“Bully for old Bertie! He always fires a shot 
for the ladies when it’s needed,” chuckled the 
Fourth Assistant B. 

“Going to the Princess’s again I’ll lay a guinea,” 
said the sleepy-looking Englishman, more anima- 
tion in his voice than before, as he watched Ber- 
tram pass down the street. 

“Ah! there’s that man Follingsbee back and in 
civilized garb,” he announced disgustedly. 

“Ugh — hope he isn’t coming in here,” said the 
Fourth Assistant B. “Who put him up anyway,” 
he inquired. 

“The I. G. (Inspector General), my boy. He 
dotes on him; says there isn’t a dialect in all China 
that man doesn’t know or can’t learn to speak 
like a native inside of two weeks.” 

“Humph! Just the same I wouldn’t care to 
introduce him to my sister if she were out here.” 

“Quite so. A decent chap doesn’t associate 


Some Gossip and a Dinner 27 

with Chinamen — the coolie sort — in the way he 
does.” 

“Speaking of natives, have you heard that the 
reformer Fen-Sha is in prison in Tientsin, con- 
demned to death by the slicing process?” asked 
the young Frenchman. 

“Yes. Beastly country this, where a man can 
be hacked to pieces by order of the court. They 
say Fen-Sha is a fine young chap too — a genuine 
patriot and all that.” 

“He was educated in America, wasn’t he?” 

“Believe so.” 

The conversation gradually reverted to the 
absorbing topic of Miss Betty Danford’s arrival. 
Young ladies were scarce in Peking and the advent 
of a pretty girl who was also hostess of the Ameri- 
can Legation was a subject of unabating interest. 

When Betty appeared that night on her father’s 
arm in Lady Caton’s drawing-room, the Doyen of 
the Diplomatic Corps was heard to declare sol- 
emnly that her entry took his breath away. As 
he was a gallant and kindly old gentleman, he 
repeated the remark in a toast which he offered 
to Betty and which was drunk with enthusiasm by 
the young men and with politely disguised indiffer- 
ence by the ladies, while Betty blushed and looked 
prettier than ever. But this was later in the 
evening. 

When all the dinner-guests had arrived, Lady 
Caton led the way into the great dining-room. 

There were sixteen people at the table. The 


28 The Breath of the Dragon 

conversation was principally in French. There 
was a saucy refinement of levity tripping from 
rosy lips and gay laughter. Many of the women 
were pretty; one was beautiful — the wife of the 
Minister from Spain. Her statuesque beauty 
was heightened by a gown of black velvet, from 
which her shoulders rose cool and white like 
glistening marble. Her husband, many years her 
senior, threw proud glances of approbation at her 
from his seat across the table. 

“Our Spanish friend grows handsomer every 
day,” said Princess Pontioff to her neighbour, 
“but the little lady of the American Legation has 
a prettiness I like better,” and the fair Russian 
let her violet eyes rest in frank admiration on 
Betty. She never feared to draw attention to a 
woman better-looking than herself. “I have 
attractions which lie deeper than my skin,” she 
had declared once long ago. 

From the other end of the table came the French 
Minister’s rasping voice: “Vous n’y £tes pas. II 
faut done, a la fin, vous le dire. Quand je trouve 
un livre assez bete pour 6tre bon ou assez bon 
pour 6tre bete, je me dis tranquillement voici un 
livre pour ma femme.” The Minister was not 
married. His sally provoked a laugh. 

“What does he say?” asked Betty, dimpling, 
but anxious to learn why she was joining in the 
merriment. Youth and happiness echo a laugh 
as instinctively as they draw breath. “Not 
worth repeating, ’pon honour,” said Captain Ber- 


Some Gossip and a Dinner 29 

tram. “ I was awfully lucky to have you for a 
neighbour,” he continued. “It is my fate fre- 
quently to take Madame Imati in to dinner and 
she can’t speak a word of any language except 
Japanese. She is an awfully good sort, but not 
quite the companion one might desire for a dinner 
of two and three hours’ duration.” 

“Goodness!” exclaimed Betty, “do you mean 
to tell me we have to eat as long as that?” 

Bertram laughed. She had glanced up at him 
as she spoke, now her eyes were lowered again on 
her plate. 

“You have the prettiest eyelashes and the 
sweetest little mouth in the world,” he was saying 
to himself. Aloud he said: “Try one of these 
pates, you will find them very good.” 

Betty did not answer. She had suddenly be- 
come conscious, with something of surprise and 
pride, of the facile manner in which her recluse 
father adapted himself to frothy conversation. 
She had not learned that a good-natured contempt 
for the average intellect is as efficient a teacher 
in the art of self-possession as a long course of 
social training. 

“You Americans are so complex/’ Lady Caton 
was saying to him. 

“And why not?” returned the Minister smil- 
ing. “It requires the joint efforts of most of the 
nations of the civilized world to produce one of 
us.” 

“I shall begin a study of this American complex 


30 


The Breath of the Dragon 


character as exemplified in a certain Mr. Follings- 
bee,” cried Princess Pontioff gaily. “ Is he typical, 
Mr. Danford?” she asked, animated by a pure 
spirit of mischief. The Prince frowned frankly. 
Lady Caton looked embarrassed, even annoyed. 
She shot a swift glance at Mr. Danford, who replied 
coldly: “Not in the least, Princess. ,, “What a 
pity,” she continued with perfect composure, “I 
like him. He can laugh at the most imperceptible 
wit, tell a story with some grace, and listen to a 
badly told one with still more. That last is an 
accomplishment usually restricted to my sex,” 
she added, making a little face. 

The German Charg6 d’ Affaires informed his 
neighbour that this Mr. Follingsbee was too in- 
timate with pig-tailed natives to be tolerated in 
polite society. “What is he doing in Peking?” 
inquired the neighbour, who was a newcomer. i 

“Exactly! What is he doing here! He says 
he is preparing to travel into Tibet. I for one 
do not believe him. Does a man prepare for that 
journey by frequenting tea-houses all hours of the 
day and night, hobnobbing with dirty natives? 
I ask myself why, um Gottes willen , does a white 
man want to consort with Chinese when he is 
neither a diplomat, or worse yet, a missionary.” 

After dinner more guests arrived. The drawing- 
room soon filled with people. Magnificent toilets, 
scintillating diamonds, made a profusion of splen- 
dour, toned down to rich softness by the friendly 
light of wax candles. 


Some Gossip and a Dinner 31 

In the ballroom someone was playing the 
piano. It was only when the Inspector-General 
entertained that diplomatic society in Peking 
danced to the music of a band trained by a musi- 
cian in the employ of the great man. 

The men outnumbered the women. They 
resembled black beetles circling about shimmering 
butterflies. Lady Caton moved among her guests 
with a hostess’s smile and a gracious word for 
everyone. Betty was surrounded by half a dozen 
young men, each striving for a dance. It was 
Captain Bertram who claimed her for the first 
waltz. Princess Pontioff raised her eyebrows 
and smiled as she watched them for an instant. 

“I wonder,” she said to the German Charg6 
d’ Affaires, “I wonder if our little friend over there 
will marry you or Captain Bertram. Of course, 
she will marry one of you — you are the only really 
eligible young men in Peking.” 

“It is of the charming American young lady 
you are speaking, yes?” returned the German, 
and raising his hands deprecatingly, added: “It 
is my misfortune that I am not eligible for the 
honour. I am subject to fits. I have been incar- 
cerated in an insane asylum, I have been hanged 
for murder, I am ” 

“An incorrigible,” laughed the Princess. “ Well 
then, since you withdraw from the arena ” 

“Never having entered,” he reminded her. 

“Captain Bertram,” she concluded her sentence, 
“will be without a rival.” 


32 The Breath of the Dragon 

“Like the great Pompey,” he said, twirling 
his flaxen mustache. 

“Why?” enquired the Princess. 

“A lover of himself without a rival,” replied 
the German suavely. 

The two young diplomats disliked each other 
cordially and politely. This was due, among 
other reasons, to their widely different conception 
of humour. It is impossible to be friends with a 
man with whom you cannot laugh. 

“Will you not dance now? It is my favourite 
waltz,” he murmured. 

“Really? It is not mine,” remarked the Prin- 
cess coolly. Then she glided off with him. 

Lady Caton spun daintily around in the arms 
of the French Minister. She was holding up the 
train of her gown, displaying two small satin-clad 
feet chasing each other over the floor. His Rever- 
ence, the resident Bishop, in Apostolic knicker- 
bockers, watched the race with a smile. 

Mr. Danford retreated to the smoking-room 
where he was joined by Sir Arthur Caton and the 
Spanish Minister. The ball continued till far 
into the night. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE BEGGAR WOMAN 

Betty had been in Peking a week. During that 
time she had danced every night. She had gone 
to garden parties and had picnicked in pictur- 
esque Buddhist temples beyond the city. It may 
almost be said that foreign society in Peking feted 
the presiding lady of the American Legation 
every hour of the day and most hours of the night. 
Betty had never enjoyed herself so continuously 
in all her young life. She had seen Follingsbee 
frequently, but only for a few moments at a time. 
He did not attend the dinners or the dances, to 
which indeed he was not asked, nor did he join in 
the other gaieties. Betty sometimes found her- 
self singularly annoyed at this without knowing 
why. 

One morning after a ball she rose early in spite 
of the fatigue incident to long hours of dancing 
and prepared for a ride. When she stepped into 
the cool, fresh air, the garden coolies hastily un- 
wound their queues — coiled for convenience round 
their heads, but never worn so in the presence of 
a superior — and respectfully saluted her. 

i 


34 


The Breath of the Dragon 


At a window in the secretary’s house a small 
white figure appeared. 

It was Tommy, the five-year-old son of the first 
secretary. 

“Thay, are you going widing?” he called to 
Betty. 

“Yes. See, here comes the Mafoo with the 
ponies,’’ she answered. 

“If you wait till I get into my twouthers, I’ll 
come too,” he proclaimed grandly. 

“Not this morning, Tommy,” she said, and 
waving her riding whip to the disappointed little 
fellow she passed out of the gates. 

Legation Street was never crowded, but this 
morning it was deserted except for a beggar crouch- 
ing close to the wall. Betty threw her a few cop- 
per cash. The beggar brushed her unkempt, 
matted hair from her face with a quick, sly gesture 
and gazed after the American girl. Some impulse 
moved Betty at the same moment to look back. 
The beggar’s eyes were fastened upon her. For 
the fraction of a second the two stared at each 
other. Then the woman stooped hurriedly, 
picked up the coppers, and disappeared down a 
side street. 

“It is extraordinary!” murmured Betty. “Of 
whom does she remind me?” 

For a while she puzzled over this strange and 
illusive resemblance of a dirty Pekingese beggar to 
someone she knew. Theft she forgot the incident 
as she entered the crowded, evil-smelling streets 


The Beggar Woman 35 

of the Chinese city to reach the great gates in 
the outer wall. 

Once outside this wall, she urged her pony to a 
quicker pace, the mafoo close behind her, his 
long queue hanging, a straight, immovable line 
down his back. 

There are few physical pleasures more acute 
than a brisk run on horseback in the cool of a 
pleasant day. The mind lies fallow, every mental 
phase is stilled in the exultant sense of pure animal 
well-being. On a green slope by the river, Betty 
sprang from her panting pony and threw herself 
upon the grass. When the first keen pleasure of 
her ride was passed, she reflected, with the girlish 
enthusiasm of eighteen summers, on the life she 
was to lead in Peking. It would be a steady whirl 
of gaieties. Even the prospect of long, tedious 
diplomatic dinners where she, as the Minister’s 
daughter, would be the only young girl present, 
became bearable because of the dancing which 
would follow. She had scored what a budding 
debutante considers distinct success; her dances 
were divided and subdivided and her partners 
many. Betty sighed with content. Yet she was 
conscious of having missed Follingsbee. He had 
called once. She had received him with frank 
cordiality, her father with courteous but pronounced 
formality. Follingsbee had not repeated his 
visit. 

“ Good-morning !” 

The girl started, and turning saw him looking 


36 The Breath of the Dragon 

down upon her from his horse. He was not in 
Chinese costume. He swung himself from the 
saddle and sank on the ground beside her. 

The mafoo led his horse a short distance away 
where Betty’s pony and his own were contentedly 
grazing. 

“ If I were you I wouldn’t ride alone around here. 
You must remember you are not in Sipuaw, Illi- 
nois, but in Peking, China.” 

“ Praise be!” said Betty blithely and added: 
•‘But father said that Foo-ling — he’s my mafoo 
you know — was a very reliable man. He has been 
a trusted servant in the Legation for years.” 

“Nevertheless I want you to promise me not 
to ride alone again,” insisted Follingsbee. 

“To please you, never again while there’s a 
man left in Peking. I’ll ride with a gallant escort 
of three tomorrow, I promise you,” she rejoined, 
a little smile of girlish triumph puckering the cor- 
ners of her soft lips. Something in her joyous 
loveliness arrested his attention and moved him to 
say: “Do you find the life of diplomatic Peking 
very entertaining?” 

Betty beamed happily upon him. “Iam having 
the most wonderful time! Certainly the dinners 
are not very amusing, but the balls’ — they are 
such fun! I dance and dance until I am ready to 
drop and then I dance some more. And the next 
night — or the one after — I do it all over again!” 

“You call that having a good time? Great 
Scott! I should hate it!” ejaculated Follingsbee. 


The Beggar Woman 


37 


“ Is that the reason you don’t come to the balls? ” 
she asked abruptly. 

“I can’t say that,” he said, tossing a pebble in 
the sluggish stream. “You see, I am not asked.” 

“Why are you not asked?” she demanded. 
The young man shrugged his shoulders: “Perhaps 
they don’t like me,” he answered carelessly. 

“That is absurd,” declared Betty promptly. 

“Thank you. Nothing half so nice has ever 
been said to me,” returned Follingsbee laughing. 

“I don’t understand it at all,” she continued 
with a puzzled frown, “but I shall find out. It is 
useless asking father, he won’t know, but Lady 
Caton will.” 

“Why bother your pretty head about so unim- 
portant a matter? If I am not invited, I am also 
spared the trouble of writing regrets. By the 
way, if you chance to hear that my Chinese asso- 
ciates are too low class to be reputable, just bear 
in mind, will you, that I am in Peking for a special 
purpose and to further it I seek information and 
help wherever I can obtain them. I have even,” 
he added, smiling a little as though amused at some 
thought, “not scorned to ask questions of beggars.” 

“Beggars!” exclaimed Betty, “what can they 
possibly know that could be of use to you?” 

“A lot of things. For instance, some of them 
have travelled to Peking — the Mecca of Chinese 
mendicants — from distant places and therefore 
are acquainted with the character of the roads over 
which they have passed, the number of villages 


38 


The Breath of the Dragon 


on their way, and so forth. If they happen to 
have come from the south-west — in the direction of 
Tibet, you understand, where I hope to go — 

they ” He stopped abruptly. He seemed 

annoyed with himself, an acute observer might 
even have detected a certain compunction in his 
expression, as of one who had deliberately told 
an untruth and regretted having done so. Betty, 
however, was not an acute observer; moreover 
her thoughts had reverted to the beggar she had 
encountered in Legation Street that morning, 
and to the strange resemblance which had vaguely 
troubled her. 

“ Ah ! Now I know ! * ’ she cried suddenly. 

“Know what?” asked Follingsbee quickly. 

“Of whom she reminded me.” 

1 1 May I ask you to be just a little more explicit?” 
he said with a look of relief. He stretched himself 
lazily on the ground, his hands clasped under his 
head. 

“This morning when I left the Legation I saw a 
beggar woman crouching close to the wall. The 
tnafoo said she had been hanging about the gates 
for the past week and the tingi 1 had repeatedly 
chased her away.” She stopped to stare at Fol- 
lingsbee. He had pulled himself up with a quick 
jerk. 

“What’s the matter?” she asked. 

“Nothing — go on,” he replied. 

“I gave her a few cash as I passed. For some 

* Gate-keeper, 


The Beggar Woman 


39 


reason I turned and looked back at her. She 
had brushed her long straggling hair from her 
face and was gazing after me. Something about 
her eyes seemed curiously familiar. This bothered 
me, for it was quite impossible that I should know 
anyone who even remotely resembled that poor 
wretched creature. But now I understand — she 
had eyes like my lovely amah — the one you know 
who disappeared so strangely the evening of my 
arrival in Peking. Do you think, Mr. Follingsbee,” 
she asked anxiously, “she could possibly be ” 

“Queer ducks, these Chinese,” Follingsbee 
interrupted her. “They all look alike till you 
get to know them well.” 

He drew his watch out, glanced at it and ex- 
claimed: “I almost forgot an important engage- 
ment due in half an hour. Majool Miss Danford’s 
pony!” 

Before she realized it, Betty was mounted and 
riding toward Peking in hot haste, Follingsbee’ s 
horse setting the pace. When they passed through 
the gates of the Chinese city and slowed their 
animals to a quiet trot, Betty turned gaily to her 
companion. “That was a splendid run! But it 
just occurs to me that you brought me back almost 
by main force and without so much as a ‘by your 
leave, fair lady. ’ Wasn’t it a very high-handed 
proceeding, Mr. Follingsbee?” He was staring 
to the right and left, with a quick, keen look in his 
eyes. He scarcely heard Betty’s speech and 
answered it not at all. 


40 


The Breath of the Dragon 


She bit her lips; she felt chagrined. His pre- 
occupied air, his indifference contrasted markedly 
with the attention bestowed upon her by the 
young men of the legations. She determined 
not to speak again during the remainder of their 
ride. 

In silence they traversed the crowded Chinese 
city and in silence entered the Tartar city. Fol- 
lingsbee appeared indeed to be unconscious of the 
presence of his companion. Presently they reached 
Legation Street. In an alley close to the Russian 
Legation, and from where the gates of the Ameri- 
can Legation could be seen, squatted a beggar, her 
clap-bowl beside her. When Betty saw her she 
broke her self-imposed silence. “There she is 
again!” she cried impulsively and turned toward 
the alley. Follingsbee’s abstraction suddenly 
vanished. He seized Betty’s bridle. “Don’t go 
near her — she has smallpox!” he said sharply. 
His peremptory manner following his former com- 
plete indifference to her presence, irritated the 
girl to the point of anger. 

“Let go my bridle, Mr. Follingsbee. ” 

“Not if you intend to approach that woman. 
She has smallpox,” he reiterated. 

“She didn’t have it two hours ago; it is not 
likely she has it now,” retorted Betty with frank 
incredulity. 

“It is not the same beggar — * — ” 

“I will find that out for myself, then.” 

“You will do nothing of the kind,” said Follings- 


The Beggar Woman 


4i 


bee, firmly. “I can’t permit you to expose your- 
self to smallpox merely to satisfy your curiosity.” 

Betty’s cheeks burned; her eyes flashed with 
the intensity of her exasperated feelings. She 
looked at the hand holding her bridle. Then 
almost involuntarily she half raised her riding-crop. 

Follingsbee saw the motion. “ Don’t be silly, 
and don’t make a scene before the mafoo ,” he 
said in a low voice. “You are behaving like a 
spoilt child. You ought to be ashamed!” 

Betty stiffened in her saddle. She seemed sud- 
denly to have grown older. 

“If you will remove your hand from my bridle, 
Mr. Follingsbee, I promise to go home. You 
saved me from a Chinese mob once — in return I 
concede your present wishes and accept your 
insults. We are quits I think.” 

With that she rode rapidly toward the American 
Legation. Follingsbee experienced a new sensa- 
tion which he only half understood. He watched 
her slender figure — the well poised head, the dainty 
boot just visible beneath the folds of her riding 
habit — disappear through the Legation gates. 

Then he turned and entered the alley. At the 
same time from the opposite end of the alley ap- 
peared a half-score of Chinese soldiers, loud-blus- 
tering Bannermen. Follingsbee spurred his horse 
toward the beggar and leaning quickly from his 
saddle said in a low voice: “Hong-Kong.” 

“Tientsin,” she whispered. 

At last the answer! He had sought it vainly 


42 


The Breath of the Dragon 


among fifty or more wretched women mendicants 
during the past week. 

The soldiers marching two by two drew nearer. 
Follingsbee spoke again hurriedly and threw some 
cash at her feet. In drawing the money from his 
pocket, his handkerchief fell out. The beggar 
whined her thanks in shrill tones, picked up the 
coppers, and hastily thrust into her bosom the 
purse which lay concealed in the cambric folds. 
Then she hobbled off trying to avoid the soldiers, 
who as they approached flung out unsavoury jests 
about beggars in general and women beggars in 
particular. 

The handkerchief lay where it had fallen. Fol- 
lingsbee appeared suddenly to notice it. He 
wheeled his horse about so the animal formed not 
only a barrier between the woman and the soldiers 
but effectually obstructed the latter’s advance in 
the narrow alley. He leaned with slow delibera- 
tion from his saddle, picked up his property, and 
without shaking out the dust and the dirt thrust 
it back into his pocket. 

In the handkerchief lay a crumpled piece of paper. 

The soldiers muttered curses at the foreign 
devil’s impudence in blocking their path. The 
young man affected not to hear or understand. 

The beggar had disappeared. 

Follingsbee passed the American Legation with- 
out stopping. He rode rapidly to his own quar- 
ters from which he emerged an hour later, dressed 
like a cartman. 


CHAPTER V . 


A TRANSFORMATION 

The beggar woman in the meanwhile made her 
way speedily, though cautiously, through the city 
streets, choosing by preference those which were 
deserted or with but few wayfarers. She slipped 
past lean pariah dogs snarling over refuse and 
hugged the walls in narrow lanes when over-laden 
mules went by, their riders with bland composure 
surmounting the burdens. 

To escape a camel with paniers protruding like 
great excrescences from its sides, she turned into 
an adjoining street, wider than the ones she had 
been traversing. Here a crowd had collected to 
gape up at a woman standing on the flat roof of 
a house shrieking imprecations against her mother- 
in-law and taking the public into her confidence 
by recounting the miseries and abuse she had 
endured since she entered the house. 

Unnoticed the beggar passed through the gaping 
crowd and emerged into the great market of 
Peking, the largest perhaps in the world, and cer- 
tainly the noisiest. The staccato shrieks of 
buyers bargaining, the rumbling of carts, the 
43 


44 


The Breath of the Dragon 


squeaking of wheelbarrows with small sails set to 
waft the curious landcraft along, the squealing 
of pigs being slaughtered, the dramatic shouts of 
professional story-tellers, all mingled together 
like the roar of waves in a stormy sea. 

One side of the market was given over to the 
sellers of bamboo shoots and vegetables and of 
live fish in tubs of water. On the opposite side, 
were the meat and game stalls where fresh venison 
and beautiful long-tailed pheasants were displayed. 
Here also were the famous Peking ducks and the 
luscious fruits of North China, grapes, pears, and 
persimmons. Tables of fortune-tellers were set 
up everywhere and booths of geomancers. En- 
terprising chemists had erected shops in the great 
market for the sale of medicines: pills of dried, 
red-spotted lizard skins, fresh tops of stag-horn, 
and the celebrated Manchurian ginseng, resem- 
bling, with its colour of transparent white or pale 
yellow, pieces of stalactite, yet in cost beyond the 
purchase power of any save the wealthy, for the 
ginseng properties were thought to be life-giving, 
and rich old men and decrepit roues paid willingly 
thousand of taels for a pound of the root. 

Not far from the chemist’s stalls a juggler had 
collected a laughing crowd of men and boys, by 
coarse jokes and clever tricks. As the beggar 
woman passed he swallowed a bell large as a wal- 
nut. It bulged from his throat and rattled down in- 
to his stomach. The fellow danced to the tinkling 
of the bell which could be plainly heard inside him. 


A Transformation 


45 


The woman hurried on with lowered eyes to 
hide the disdain and disgust shining in them. She 
passed a professional letter writer taking down 
the platitudes a young man was dictating to send 
to his father in a distant village. The young man 
was undisturbed by the noise in the market, or 
by the presence of the idly curious listening to his 
dictation, or by those who, rollicking past, delayed 
an instant to throw out mocking suggestions to the 
scribe. 

“Tell him his son lay drunk all night with saki” 

“Tell him he pawned his mother’s amulet for 
a whiff of Fan-ling’s opium.” 

The beggar woman hastened through the mar- 
ket, traversed street after street, till she entered a 
narrow alley and stopped before the door of a 
house. In high nasal tones she besought alms from 
the charitable ones within. 

The door opened on a crack. 

“Is it you, my flower?” said a low voice. 

“It is I, ” replied the beggar. 

The house, though of mean aspect, was clean 
and orderly within. The old woman who had 
opened the door closed it cautiously again and 
seizing the beggar’s hands peered anxiously into 
her face. 

“Did you find him?” she asked. 

“I found him,” replied the beggar wearily, 
sinking on the K’ang. 

“And the money?” continued the other eagerly, 
“did he give it to you?” 


46 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Yes, it is here.” She drew the well-filled 
purse from her bosom. 

The old woman emptied the contents on the 
K’ang, and began to count the money. “Taels two 
hundred!” she exclaimed; “for a foreign devil he 
did well!” 

“You know I do not wish you to speak in 
that manner,” said the beggar in an imperious 
voice. 

“I forgot my little flower, my sweet one. 
And now I will wash the brown from your face, 
and take away those filthy rags. May you never 
again be forced to wear them.” 

She brought a basin of water, a cake of soap, 
and a towel and began her task, talking all the 
while. 

“Oh, my flower, I am filled with foreboding. 
Did I not hear the cock crow at the hour of the ox? 
And yesterday I tripped against the oil can, up- 
setting it ; and my left eye twitched three times 
at the hour of the snake. No good can come from 
such things. Misfortune is hovering near. I 
tremble with fear for you.” 

She washed the brown stain from the beggar’s 
face, while she wailed forth her fears, and unwound 
the cotton rags fastened about the tender feet. 
They were cracked and blistered. She brought 
soothing lotions and carefully bathed them. Then 
she cleaned and combed the matted hair, and 
deftly twisted up the dark long strands on top of 
the shapely head. Finally she replaced the 


A Transformation 


47 

wretched rags with a clean blue cotton gown and 
fastened an amulet around the slender throat. 

“It is Hsi,” she said, “I got it this morning 
from a fung-shui Sien-Sang” (a wind and water 
doctor). She stepped back and surveyed her 
work with satisfaction. 

“There, my honey-bird! Who would take you 
now for the beggar-girl who just entered my door? 
Repose on the K’ang while I make tea.” 

“In truth I am in need of rest,” said the erst- 
while beggar with a sigh. With the removal of 
the rags and the stains from her face, she showed 
herself to be the same handsome young woman 
who had accompanied Betty Danford to Peking 
in the capacity of maid. 

The old woman made tea over the brazier and 
brought the fragrant beverage in a bowl to her 
young mistress. She drank gratefully and sinking 
back on the K’ang rested her head on the wooden 
pillow. 

“Amah" she said, “take the money and get the 
clothes you ordered to be ready today. Hurry, 
the time is growing short.” 

The woman flung herself on her knees beside 
the K’ang and clasped the girl’s hands. 

“Oh, my honey-bird, my heart’s delight, I 
tremble for you. See, I am an old woman, bowed 
with many sorrows, and my eyes are as a well gone 
dry from overmuch weeping. Give up this thing. 
It is a wild plan and can lead to nought but your 
destruction. Moreover the Lady Yin will surely 


48 The Breath of the Dragon 


have heard from her sister and will know that you 
are not her niece Wangti.” 

4 ‘That is improbable,” returned A-lu-te; “the 
cousin of Fen-Sha,” — she spoke the name with 
lingering tenderness — “has just come from Pao- 
chou. He knows all about the family. The girl 
Wangti has been dead two years. Her mother 
and the Lady Yin have not been on speaking terms 
these five years or more. She knows nothing 
about her niece. Have no fear.” 

“But later when you leave there to go to — — ” 

“Be silent,” said A-lu-te peremptorily. 

She pushed the amah gently from her. “Do 
as I bid you. Time flies and I must hurry, or I 
will be too late.” 

With a sigh the old woman rose, took the purse 
and left the house. 

A-lu-te lay without moving, her eyes staring 
up at the ceiling. 

In half an hour the amah returned carrying a 
large bundle wrapped in dark blue cotton cloth. 
She untied the cloth and displayed two gowns, 
one of them beautifully embroidered, also shoes 
embroidered in the same pattern and handsome 
hair ornaments and nail-shields. 

A-lu-te examined the articles critically. She 
experienced nothing of that pleasure instinctive 
to a young girl when contemplating pretty new 
garments which are hers to wear. 

“They are lovely, are they not, my lotus 
flower? See this silk, how firm yet soft! the 


A Transformation 


49 


embroidery, how fine! What colour! What deli- 
cate design! At, at , but you will look beautiful 
in these garments.” 

The next moment she broke out wailing again, 
wringing her knotted old hands in despair. “What 
good are such things to you, my lotus-bud! You 
were safer in your beggar’s rags than you will be 
decked out in these fine clothes. They will kill 
you, my bird, they will kill you!” 

A-lu-te gave no heed to this moaning. 

“What money have you left, amah ? ” she asked. 

The woman poured the silver on the K’ang. 
A-lu-te counted the pieces, then made of them two 
piles, one of which she gave to her amah. 

“Take this and buy with it your coffin. At the 
coffin shop of Ta-Ping outside the Chien Men 
gate is an excellent one of fine wood and once 
lacquered. Get it. You have your passing away 
clothes. Your cock-crow pillow you can buy with 
what money remains after you have paid for the 
coffin.” 

The old woman was delighted; she poured forth 
her gratitude and for the nonce forgot to wail or 
prophesy evil. This was as A-lu-te wished. She 
rose now from the K’ang, slipped off the simple 
cotton gown she was wearing, and with the amah's 
assistance began her toilet. Before long she stood 
arrayed as a Manchu lady of high quality, even 
to the long silver nail shields on the third and 
fourth fingers of her little hands. 

“See if a cart is waiting,” she commanded. 


4 


50 


The Breath of the Dragon 


The woman opened the door and peered out. 

In the alley, a short distance from the house, 
stood a mule-cart. The driver’s head was bobbing 
in sleep as he sat on the shafts of the clumsy vehicle. 
Except for his presence, the alley was deserted. 

“It is there,” said the amah, and began again 
to sob. A-lu-te threw her arms around the old 
woman’s neck. “Courage, amah! See, I go 
forth unafraid. ‘As the winds and clouds of 
heaven are ever shifting, so the misery and happi- 
ness of men change from morning to evening.’ 
Because I am unhappy now is not a sign that I 
shall not be joyful before another moon.” 

“At — perhaps — if you live that long,” murmured 
the woman. A-lu-te made no response. Cau- 
tiously, swiftly, she slipped from the house and 
entered the cart. 

The driver, suddenly wide-awake, whipped up 
his mule and the cart rattled off. 

^Behind the gauze curtains A-lu-te gave direc- 
tions in a low voice. The driver nodded, without 
replying. 

High in the air circled white doves — mid-sky 
houris, the Chinese call them — shedding, as they 
flew, soft aeolian notes from the whistles fastened 
to their tail-feathers. A-lu-te loved their music; 
it recalled certain happy hours spent in a pleasant 
garden, with one she loved. She drew aside the 
curtains to look up at the doves. A shaven- 
headed bonze, collecting bits of printed paper in 
the street lest the sacred name of Buddha be 


A Transformation 


5i 


defiled, saw her. He gaped at the lovely face so 
suddenly exposed to him and made a coarse re- 
mark. The girl dropped the curtain hastily and 
sank back on the floor of the cart. The driver 
managed, while flicking his mule with his long 
whip, to include the bald pate of the bonze. The 
man of Buddha screamed out imprecations. The 
cart rattled on. It turned into a crowded thorough- 
fare, turned again, and a few minutes later stopped 
before a gate in a high stone wall. 

The driver sprang from his seat and knocked 
vigorously on the wooden panels. A tingi (gate- 
keeper), in official hat and dress, opened the gate. 

A-lu-te spoke from the interior of the cart: 

“ I am the niece of the Lady Yin. The driver 
is a mute. Give me entrance and have my pre- 
sence announced.’ * 

The tingi flung the gate wide. 

A-lu-te stepped from the cart and entered the 
court. The driver turned his mule about and 
disappeared quickly down the street. 

“Is that a way for the Lady Yin’s niece to 
present herself!” muttered the tingi, amazed at so 
unceremonious an arrival. He sounded a gong. 
A tall eunuch appeared. To him A-lu-te ad- 
dressed herself in the same imperious manner: 

“Announce to the Lady Yin that her niece, 
the daughter of Lord Cheng-shi, has arrived and 
begs to be admitted to her presence.” 

The beauty and haughty bearing of the Manchu 
girl impressed the eunuch. He bowed low, then 


52 


The Breath of the Dragon 


presented his arm to assist her as if she had been 
a bound-footed woman. He escorted her into a 
handsome reception room where he left her. 
A-lu-te seated herself on a carved teakwood chair 
and waited. The imperiousness was gone from 
her manner; her expression was anxious to the 
point of fear. But when the eunuch reappeared, 
she was again the haughty niece of Lady Yin. 

A few minutes later A-lu-te stood in the presence 
of the wife of one of the most prominent Manchu 
officials in the capital. She advanced into the 
room a few steps, then courtesied, her left knee 
touching the floor. 

“ How is it that my brother-in-law did not notify 
me of your approaching arrival ?” demanded 
Lady Yin sharply. 

She was performing her toilet. Servants were 
removing wash-basins, soaps, perfumes, and towels, 
while others were arranging her hair. 

“My aunt — ” began A-lu-te. 

“Put that butterfly more to the left — so, a 
little higher, as if it were about to alight.” 

She turned again to A-lu-te. “I am told you 
arrived unattended — in a cart. Is that the way 
my brother-in-law sends his daughter travelling 
about the country ?” 

“My aunt,” replied A-lu-te, “I set out from 
Pao-chou with a large escort and bearing letters 
to you and my Lord Yin from my father. On the 
road we were attacked by robbers and though the 
servants fought valiantly, they were overpowered 


A Transformation 


33 


and killed. The worthless presents my father 
charged me to present with his respectful saluta- 
tions were stolen and the contents of my boxes 
rifled. The robbers intended holding me for 
ransom. I escaped by the cunning of my amah , 
who quickly changed into my clothes and passed 
herself off for me, while I, under cover of the dark- 
ness, fled and through the kindness of a carter 
made my way to Peking.” 

All listened with profound interest to A-lu-te’s 
narrative. 

“Aye,” said Lady Yin, “I have always heard 
that robbers were as plentiful as watermelon seeds 
on that road. Why did my sister wish you to 
visit me? It was not for love of me, that is cer- 
tain, for it has been six years now since she has 
condescended to write or send me any message. 
She has been foolish to remain angry so long be- 
cause my husband has superseded hers in office. 
As if my husband were accountable that his talents 
are superior to those of your father, and have 
therefore received deserved recognition from the 
Empress Dowager!” 

“I have not come to visit you, my aunt,” re- 
turned A-lu-te quietly, “I have come to present 
myself with the other Manchu maidens for inspec- 
tion at the Imperial Household Office.” 

Lady Yin dropped the ornament she had se- 
lected from those on a tray a servant was holding 
before her. She looked annoyed as well as sur- 
prised at A-lu-te’s statement. 


54 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Why that is in two days! How can you get 
ready? Your clothes are not suitable. You 
cannot present yourself in that dress, though I 
confess it does not look travel-stained. 

“My father, desiring that I should appear as 
well-gowned as the daughters of the Manchu 
families who live in Peking, ordered a dress to be 
made ready for me when I arrived. I called for 
it on my way here and brought it with me.” 

“It is well that you bethought yourself of that,” 
remarked Lady Yin, gratified to discover that 
she would not have to disburse money for her 
niece's clothes. 

“Is your name on the list?” she asked. 

“Yes. It has been on the list since my fifth 
year.” 

“That is true — I forgot. I will see to it that 
you have a chair and sufficient outriders to accom- 
pany you to the Palace. Glad am I that I have 
borne no daughters to be registered in the govern- 
ment book. I am sorry for you if you are selected ; 
life in the Palace under the Old Buddha 1 is no 
sinecure. Moreover to be shut up behind stone 
walls for the rest of one’s years, and never to see 
one’s family again, to be little more than a slave, 
is not my idea of happiness.” 

Tears came to A-lu-te’s eyes. “Nor mine,” 
she murmured. The girl’s sad mien moved the 
heart of Lady Yin. “Ah well, don’t be downcast, 
my dear. One can never tell what may happen. 

1 The name commonly bestowed upon the Empress Dowager. 


A Transformation 


55 


You are pretty; perhaps the Emperor will take a 
fancy to you and then, who knows? You may 
bear him a son.” 

A-lu-te clinched her little hands tightly, but 
her face showed nothing of the black despair with 
which this suggestion filled her heart. 

“I hope,” continued Lady Yin, “that if you 
are selected to be a 4 Fei ’ or a ‘ Pin ’ ” (grades of the 
imperial concubines) “and acquire influence at 
Court, you will not forget that I have received you 
kindly in spite of my sister’s undutiful behaviour 
towards me.” 

“I will not forget,” said A-lu-te, in a low voice. 

Through the paint and powder which covered 
her lovely face she had a worn and weary look. 

“Sit down,” said Lady Yin. “In a little while 
we will eat. Then I will make my visits and you 
can sleep. You look tired.” 

When Lady Yin’s toilet was completed, she 
repaired with A-lu-te to the large dining-hall. 
Word had in the interim been sent to the other 
women of Lord Yin’s household that the first 
Lady Yin was ready to receive their morning 
greeting. They were her husband’s second and 
third wives and her daughters-in-law. After they 
had made their obeisance before her, she pre- 
sented A-lu-te to each of them in turn, recounting, 
with a certain pride, the adventures the girl had 
had upon the road, her fortunate escape from the 
robbers, and the reason of her coming to Peking. 
A-lu-te stood beside the voluble lady’s chair, 


36 


The Breath of the Dragon 


passive and silent. When the women had re- 
turned to their own apartments, she was invited 
to eat. After the meal was over, servants brought 
basins of water and towels, boxes of paint and 
brushes. Lady Yin washed her hands, touched up 
the rouge on her lips which had been partially 
rubbed off, and applied more powder to her face. 
Then, followed by a long procession of menials, 
carrying her toilet articles, her pipe, tobacco, and 
additional clothes, she passed into the court and 
entered her chair. The house servants took their 
places in carts; mafoos mounted their ponies and 
the cortege left the compound. Lady Yin had 
gone to make her round of visits. She had much 
to tell her friends concerning the arrival of her 
niece and the adventures she had encountered on 
the road from Pao-Chou to Peking. In the bed- 
room assigned to her, A-lu-te sat alone. She 
was weeping. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE BREATH OF THE DRAGON 

Peking was taking its after-tiffin nap when 
Follingsbee, once more in the dress of his country- 
men, entered the American Legation. 

He had a particular reason for wishing to see 
Betty again. 

The Minister was in his own rooms where he 
had retired for his siesta. Betty was on the 
bamboo-shaded veranda outside the drawing- 
room windows. She held a book in her hands, 
but she was not reading. 

Follingsbee saw her; he did not wait to be 
announced. 

“I have come to apologize. I was abominably 
rude this morning. Will you forgive me and be 
friends again?” He held out his hand; she laid 
her own little white one ever so lightly in his. 

“I would like to be friends again,” she replied 
simply. Her manner was entirely gracious and 
yet Follingsbee felt a subtle change; she seemed 
indefinably different. 

He seated himself in a wicker chair beside her. 
They were silent for awhile. 

57 


58 The Breath of the Dragon 

Betty was looking toward the flower-garden, 
Follingsbee was looking at Betty. 

She was dressed in a white muslin with a lace 
fichu knotted over her breast. Her slim rounded 
arms were bare to the elbows. 

“She is like one of Sir Joshua Reynolds’s pic- 
tures,” he thought and fell to admiring the picture 
in detail, the sheen of the brown hair, the long 
lashes curling upward at the ends. 

Finally Betty spoke, her eyes still fastened on 
the flower-garden : 

“The mafoo told me he saw the beggar quite 
distinctly; he said she did not have smallpox.” 

Follingsbee came out of his reverie with an 
abruptness which resembled a jolt. 

For a moment he made no reply. Slowly Betty 
turned her eyes upon him, gravely questioning. 

“Did she have smallpox, Mr. Follingsbee?” 
she asked. 

A confused sound that seemed to be a yes, 
changing into a no, and ending in a cough, expired 
in his throat. 

“I beg pardon!” she said politely. “What did 
you say?” 

“I said no,” he replied with sudden decision. 

“You thought differently at .the time then?” 

“I thought of nothing at the time but how to 
prevent you from appproaching her,” he returned, 
his composure quite restored. 

Betty sat rigid in her chair. Her voice was full 
of scorn when she spoke again. “You prevari- 


The Breath of the Dragon 59 

cated and you were rude to me. What was your 
reason?” 

“I have told you — I did not want you to ap- 
proach the woman.” 

“Why?” 

“You would have recognized her — the second 
time.” 

Betty leaned forward; her voice quivered with 
excitement. 

“Mr. Follingsbee, that beggar was my lost amah 
and you knew it all the time!” 

“Yes, I knew it.” 

“Yet you prevented me from helping her ! Y ou 
forced me to turn my back upon her, to leave her 
crouched in the dust and the dirt of the street, 
a poor miserable girl, starving, perhaps dying! 
Oh! How could you! How could you ! ” 

Her eyes filled with hot tears. She brushed 
them away angrily. 

“But I will find her again in spite of you. I 
will bring her to the Legation, she shall be my 
beautiful amah again! I will send the mafoo to 
search every street, every alley, till he has found 
her!” 

She rose to summon a servant. 

Follingsbee laid a detaining, apologetic hand 
upon her arm. “Don’t, Miss Danford! Please 
don’t. It was because of the mafoo's presence 
that I kept you from her. He would have been 
quick to learn from your exclamations that this 
beggar, who had been haunting the neighbourhood 


6o 


The Breath of the Dragon 


of the Legation for the past week, was your former 
amah . He would have told the other servants; 
by night every tea-house in Peking would be 
ringing with the tale — it would be the main topic 
of discussion." 

“ Do you imagine for an instant that I care what 
is discussed in the tea-houses of Peking?" returned 
Betty with infinite scorn. 

“The gossip might have worked no end of mis- 
chief." 

“Really, Mr. Follingsbee, your solicitude on 
my account is quite unnecessary and — pardon me 
for saying so — a little absurd." 

“You misunderstand me; I was not thinking of 
you. My anxiety was for — the other young 
woman." 

Betty flushed; her surprise was obvious. 

She had — she confessed it to herself — been too 
engrossed in the injury she conceived done to her 
own sensibilities and dignity, to reflect that the 
causes of her amah's terrible plight might be due 
to something more than mere loss of money, a 
sudden plunge into dire poverty. Now a vague 
apprehension of some great danger threatening 
the girl oppressed her. 

“I don’t understand it," she said piteously. 
“ It is all so strange, so unaccountable. What does 
it mean, Mr. Follingsbee?" 

“Miss Danford, I am going to ask a great deal 
of you. I am going to ask you to be satisfied with 
my assurance that the young woman is receiving 


The Breath of the Dragon 


61 


and will continue to receive every assistance it is 
in my power to render.” 

“ Do you mean that I am not to know why she 
is a beggar, compelled to roam the streets of 
Peking? That I am not to try and find her? Do 
you mean that I am to be satisfied with the know- 
ledge that you have given her money and if need 
be are willing to give her more? Money! thrown 
to her by a stranger, a man, when she wanted me, 
whom she knew to be her friend — her woman’s 
intuition told her that, or she would not have 
returned again and again to the Legation waiting 
for an opportunity of meeting me. Oh no! I 
certainly will not, cannot, be content to dismiss 
her from my mind in that manner. You credit 
me with too much selfishness, too heartless an 
indifference, when you ask it of me. She is a girl, 
like myself, and she is seeking my sympathy, my 
help.” 

Follingsbee was looking on the ground; his 
expression was grave and perplexed. Finally he 
said: 

“Would it content you to know that she was 
not seeking you, that she neither required or 
wanted your help?” 

“Did she tell you so this morning?” 

“No — that is not exactly.” 

Betty’s eyes snapped. “I am going to send 
for the horses. I must ask you to excuse me as 
I intend to look for her myself and bring her back 
with me.” 


62 


The Breath of the Dragon 


r Again Follingsbee stopped her. “You won’t 
find her,” he said. “ She has dropped her beggar’s 
disguise.” 

Betty’s hand fell from the bell-rope; she stared 
at Follingsbee blankly. “Disguise!” she echoed. 
Suddenly a swift spasm of surprise swept her face. 
“Was it — was it you she was waiting for?” she 
faltered. 

“Yes.” 

Slowly the red blood mounted Betty’s cheeks 
and suffused her face to the roots of her hair. 

“Miss Danford,” said Follingsbee abruptly, 
“if I have endeavoured to keep from you the 
knowledge of that young woman’s presence in 
Peking, it was because you are powerless to render 
her any assistance and because a great danger 
threatens her if her identity is discovered.” 

“Oh!” cried Betty impulsively. “We must 
tell father. He will see some high official in the 
Yamen and ask him to protect her. Quick, Mr. 
Follingsbee, let us go to father!” 

Her pretty face was aglow with sympathy and 
excitement. Follingsbee shook his head despond- 
ingly. “No use. You see this affair has a po- 
litical side which makes it impossible for Mr. 
Danford to interfere. If he went to the Yamen 
he would accomplish nothing except possibly his 
own recall. For his own sake it is better that he 
knows nothing about the matter.” 

Betty came close to him. “Mr. Follingsbee,” 
she said earnestly, “please tell me what it is all 


The Breath of the Dragon 


63 


about. I am only a girl and often I fear a very 
foolish one, but a time may come when even I 
might be of use to her.” 

She stood before him with the pleading softness 
in her eyes few had ever tried to resist. But he 
only repeated patiently, “You cannot help her.” 

“Won’t you let me try?” She laid her hand 
ever so lightly on his arm. “Please,” she said. 

He glanced down on the little fingers barely 
touching his sleeve. “If I tell you,” he replied 
slowly, as if arguing to himself, “it would be 
equivalent to telling Mr. Danford, and — well, 
something might turn up which would make it 
desirable, on his own account, that he have no 
knowledge of this matter.” 

“But I promise not to tell him. Can you not 
trust me to keep my word?” 

“It is kind and good of you, but ” 

“You won’t trust me,” said Betty stung into 
quick comprehension. “ She would have trusted 
me,” she flashed out passionately. “She would 
want me to know.” 

The faintest of smiles quivered an instant on 
Follingsbee’s face. 

Betty saw it. 

“You may laugh,” she flamed, “but just the 
same it is true.” She spoke convincingly, and to 
his surprise he found himself believing. 

After a long moment diming which he appeared 
to be thinking deeply he said: “If I tell you will 
you remember you promised?” 


6 4 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Yes,” she replied. She settled herself in a 
chair and folding her hands in her lap prepared 
to listen. 

“A-lu-te — ” he began. 

“A-lu-te! What a pretty name! Where did 
you first meet her?” Her curiosity was outstrip- 
ping her patience. 

“This morning.” 

“This morning! But how — ” She saw a 
glint of humour in Follingsbee’s eyes, and said 
quickly: “I won’t interrupt again. Truly. 
Please go on.” 

“I will tell you the story from the beginning. 

“Among my classmates at college was a young 
Chinese chap, round-faced, good-natured, and 
jolly. He was an excellent student and a general 
favourite. His name was Fen-Sha. We called 
him Curly for no reason that I ever discovered 
except that his hair was as straight as an Indian’s, 
or as a — Chinese. He was an ardent patriot; to a 
few of his intimate friends — I was among the 
number — he used to confide his ambition to or- 
ganize in his country a Reform Party, its ob- 
ject being to replace all conservative ministers 
and viceroys, adhering to their century-old tra- 
ditions, with men imbued with Western ideas, 
who would be prepared to urge the adoption 
of reform measures and change China from her 
present state of a helpless giant, possessing 
neither strength or power, to her former proud 
position, that of a wise parent of the Oriental 


The Breath of the Dragon 65 

family of nations, the leader of the Yellow 
Race. 

“I doubt if any of us took these patriotic out- 
bursts very seriously. They occurred but seldom, 
and if we thought of them at all, it was to regard 
them as the chimerical dreams of an enthusiast. 
We were far more interested in Fen-Sha the man, 
than in Fen-Sha the would-be reformer of Chinese 
customs older than Christendom. 

“But from the day he persuaded me to let him 
teach me Chinese I ceased to be indifferent. I 
have, I suppose, a facility for learning languages. 
At any rate, when he left college, I could speak 
Chinese fairly fluently. It is a fact that when a 
man acquires a new language, he acquires with it 
a keener comprehension, a more vivid interest in 
the people who speak that language which no 
amount of reading or travelling without such 
knowledge can give him. 

4 4 After we graduated Fen-Sha returned to China. 
For a time his friends lost track of him, then I 
began to hear of him as an indefatigable organizer 
of Reform Clubs in various parts of the country. 
He travelled up and down the Yellow River, 
he went all over the south and north as far as 
the Great Wall. His name became a household 
word among thousands of his country people. 
In his work he was encouraged and assisted 
financially by. Duke Tsing, who not only shared 
his progressive views, but to whose generosity 
he owed his college education in America. Fen- 


66 


The Breath of the Dragon 


Sha was betrothed to the adopted daughter of 
his benefactor.” 

“A-lu-te!” murmured Betty, tense with excite- 
ment. 

“Yes, A-lu-te. Three days before their mar- 
riage was to be solemnized, Fen-Sha was arrested 
near Tientsin, charged with conspiracy against 
the Imperial Government. He was thrown into 
prison, tried, and condemned to death. In two 
weeks his execution — slow death by the slicing 
process — will take place. His Reform Clubs are 
closed by the authorities and the members threat- 
ened with death or banishment if they attempt to 
reorganize. Duke Tsing was arrested, but be- 
cause of his high official position, the Empress 
Dowager graciously permitted him to hang him- 
self. His family were banished and A-lu-te was 
warned that if she put foot again on her native land, 
she would be sold as a slave to the highest bidder.” 

Betty listened in wide-eyed, silent horror as 
this terrible narrative was unfolded. Her own 
happy world seemed suddenly to have given way 
to a monstrous universe filled with awful torment, 
with injustice that left the heart sick. 

“It is horrible, horrible!” she cried, her voice 
breaking into a sob. “Oh, why did she return 
and expose herself to such a hideous fate!” 

“To save Fen-Sha, her betrothed. I have very 
little hope that she will succeed. Even if her 
identity is not discovered and she escapes being 
sold into slavery, her plans for his release are so 


The Breath of the Dragon 


67 


hazardous, it is well-nigh impossible that she can 
carry them to a successful issue. But her courage 
is magnificent.” 

What are these plans? ” inquired Betty, holding 
her breath in suspense. 

“Do not ask me — I have told all I can.” 

Suddenly a fearsome thought came to Betty. 

“Do they — the plans — include your co-opera- 
tion?” 

“To a certain extent,” he replied carelessly, 
and added: “That is one of the reasons I do not 
want your father to be informed concerning this 
matter. I am an American — well that fact 
might be an embarrassment to him.” 

“Will you be in danger at any time?” 

A note of keen anxiety rang in her fresh young 
voice. 

“None whatever,” lied Follingsbee calmly. 

Quite unconsciously Betty gave a sigh of relief. 
Then she said: “Did you help her to come to 
Peking as my amah ?” 

“Good Lord, no!” he exclaimed, horrified. 
“Do not think it for a moment. The plan was 
arranged and carried out by one of Fen-Sha’s 
Chinese friends in Tientsin. I was not told 
of it or I should have promptly interfered. If 
A-lu-te had been discovered on board your boat 
I hate to think what might have been the conse- 
quences to you. When I arrived in Tientsin I 
received a letter from Fen-Sha’s friend saying 
that A-lu-te would be in the capital after a certain 


68 


The Breath of the Dragon 


date and disguised as a beggar. He said she would 
require financial aid and asked me to obtain it for 
her. As he knew I had never seen the young 
woman and would not be able to recognize her 
in her disguise if I had, he told me how to identify 
her. Every day for a week I have been roaming 
the streets, accosting beggar-women, in the hope 
of finding her. It was the irony of fate that when 
I was on Legation Street, she was elsewhere. It 
was a game of hide-and-seek which both of us 
were doing our utmost to end and without success 
until I met you this morning and you put me on 
her track.” 

“How glad I am that I was of some help to her 
after all!” cried Betty. “And now, Mr. Follings- 
bee, I intend to give you all the money I have — 
it is not much,” she added ruefully, “the curio- 
dealers took most of it an hour ago. But never 
mind,” she said brightening, “I’ll get father to 
buy all my purchases from me.” 

Follingsbee laughed outright. ‘ 1 Y ou’re a young 
lady of infinite resources. You must keep your 
money, however. A-lu-te is provided with funds 
— I have seen to that.” 

“Father shall buy my curios just the same. 
You can’t be sure that she won’t require more 
money tomorrow, or the day after.” 

Her gaiety vanished again with the recurrent 
thought of A-lu-te’s danger. “You will let me 
help in every way I can?” she asked, raising her 
blue eyes earnestly to Follingsbee. 


The Breath of the Dragon 


69 


“In every way you can,” he repeated, taking 
the firm little hand in his. “And now I must be 
off. You are sure you have forgiven me for my 
rudeness this morning?” 

‘ * Quite sure ! And you ? ’ ’ 

“Oh! I had nothing to forgive.” 

“But I was rude also,” she insisted. 

“No — you were adorable,” he said quite seri- 
ously. 

As Follingsbee threaded his way through the 
crowded Chinese city to his rooms, he thought of 
a remark Betty had dropped concerning that 
particular portion of Peking. “It’s all narrow 
little streets, and big mixed smells,” she had de- 
clared disgustedly. He laughed as he recalled 
this speech. He felt singularly elated. 

On the following day he went again to the Lega- 
tion, and on the next and again the next, and 
always after tiffin when the Minister was taking 
his siesta. Follingsbee did not choose this hour 
for the purpose of avoiding the Minister, but be- 
cause he was assured of being, at that time of day, 
Betty’s only caller. 

He told her much about his friend Fen-Sha, of 
the young reformer’s work, of his passionate devo- 
tion to his country, his vehement desire to help 
his people, his faith in their better destiny, and his 
brave and single-handed efforts towards this end. 

“Not single-handed. You helped — you know 
you did,” declared Betty with the swift intuition 
of her kind. 


70 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“In a way — a little perhaps,” he admitted 
reluctantly. 

“Tell me about it,” commanded Betty. 

“There isn’t much to tell. I tried to follow 
him up, and by mixing a lot with the people, 
particularly the lower class, and gaining their 
confidence, managed a few times to help him 
escape just when the officials were about to seize 
him. They got him at last though, poor chap.” 

But Betty was not satisfied with this cursory 
account of the part he took in aiding Fen-Sha 
and so informed him. Whereupon he told her, 
quite simply, experiences any one of which repeated 
abroad would have made him the most talked of 
man in China, experiences which every young 
fellow with a taste for adventure would have 
given his eyeteeth to have lived through and 
which would have excited the envy and admiration 
of others too old to be easily stirred. 

Betty listened enthralled. Once he stopped 
short to say: “I beg pardon, I am afraid I am 
boring you.” And she insisted quite peremptorily 
that he continue. 

It is said nothing flatters a man so much as 
when a pretty girl asks him to talk about himself. 
It is the sort of thing that works both ways: the 
girl is equally flattered when the man complies. 

The third afternoon, as he was leaving he said: 
“I shall be at the Prince and Princess Pontioff’s 
ball tonight. Will you give me a dance?” 

“You shall have half of Captain Bertram’s 


The Breath of the Dragon 71 

waltz. I promised him a whole one — but that was 
before I knew you were coming.” 

It was the first ball that Follingsbee had been 
invited to attend in Peking. When Princess 
Pontioff announced her intention of asking him, 
the Prince had strenuously objected. Where- 
upon she had raised her eyebrows and replied : 

“It is my wish.” 

“But why, Gabrielle, why, I ask?” expostulated 
the Prince, beside himself with annoyance. “You 
know what he is — a man who associates with the 
lowest coolies, who ” 

“May have a Chinese wife or two — ” she 
interpolated calmly. “And no doubt has. But 
that doesn't prevent him from being the most 
interesting man in Peking. Moreover the Great 
Mogul of the Imperial Maritime Customs, before 
whom all the heads of legations — including your- 
self, mon cher — kowtow reverently, has had him 
to tiffin. I met him there you may remember.” 

The Princess as usual emerged from the con- 
troversy triumphant, and the Prince, who adored 
her, didn’t care. 

Follingsbee had two dances with Betty that 
night. Betty afterwards explained so sweetly 
to the indignant German Charge d’ Affaires, whose 
dance Follingsbee had taken, that it was a mistake, 
that the German was mollified and promptly 
promised himself to arrange a picnic at the Bell 
Temple in her honour. 

Captain Bertram’s indignation however fell 


72 The Breath of the Dragon 

only on Follingsbee. “Deuced bad form- — his 
showing up here,” he said. 

“Why?” asked Princess Pontioff, who happened 
to hear him. 

^“Er — er — because,” he replied, an answer which 
everyone knows has been the exclusive right of 
women since the days of Eve in the Garden. 
Bertram infringed on the monopoly to forestall 
the words he wanted to say. There are times 
when the little accident of being a gentleman inter- 
feres with liberty of speech. 

When Follingsbee went home that night, his 
heart was attuned to a song older far than the walls 
of Peking. Every day since the world began some 
man or woman has sung this song. Those who 
have never sung it have missed what life holds 
best in youth and happiness. Follingsbee put 
his own words to the song. They were: “ Betty f 
Betty, Betty, Betty.” 

On the desk in his rooms he found a box and 
inside of it a paper. On the paper was written: 
“Wan Shou Shan.” It was the name of the 
Empress Dowager’s Summer Palace. 

The box had been brought, said his “boy,” by 
an old woman some hours since. 

“So,” said Follingsbee to himself, “A-lu-te has 
gone into the Dragon’s maw. It’s two to one I 
won’t succeed in getting her out again, but I’ll 
have to make the venture when she sends for me. 
It’s a black outlook for her, for Fen-Sha, and — ” 
he shrugged his shoulders — “for me.” 


The Breath of the Dragon 


73 


Then he lighted his pipe and fell to thinking 
of Betty and the two dances she had given him. 
After a little he knocked the ashes from his pipe 
and sighed as one who may no longer dream 
pleasant dreams. He unlocked a trunk in which 
lay a varied and strange assortment of Chinese 
clothes. After a careful inspection, he selected a 
set of garments, placed it on top of the others, 
locked the trunk again, and went to bed. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE GREAT EMPRESS DOWAGER 

Out on the great Pechili plain between Peking 
and the western hills a green chair was being 
carried. The chair bearers had fallen into a swift 
steady pace resembling somewhat the trot of the 
little North China ponies. The wind was blow- 
ing. The sun shone through a strange yellow 
mist which was like a constantly shifting trans- 
parent curtain. The air was laden with fine 
particles of golden sand. The bearers breathed 
heavily; eyes, ears, and nostrils were caked with 
sand. The ponies of the escort hung their heads 
low in vain efforts to escape the sting of the sharp 
flinty shower. 

Inside the chair A-lu-te sat with curtains drawn 
tight. The chair swayed, rising and falling with 
every step of the bearers. 

Two hours had passed and the motion had not 
ceased, or varied, not even when the men in the 
cart had taken the place of those carrying the 
chair. The transfer was made swiftly, skilfully, 
and silently. A-lu-te did not move though her 
limbs were numb from their cramped position. 

74 j 


The Great Empress Dowager 75 


She sat like a statue, except that now and again 
she clasped and unclasped her small, slender hands 
and her lips moved as if in prayer. Suddenly 
the bearers halted. There was loud talking and 
shouting of orders. Above the general hubbub 
arose the shrill voices of women exchanging com- 
ments, asking questions. A-lu-te drew the cur- 
tains aiside and looked out. She saw fourteen other 
chairs, their occupants all young Manchu girls 
like herself and as handsomely gowned. Sur- 
rounding the chairs were soldiers, officers, and 
bearers. Someone stepped up to A-lu-te, and 
asked her to descend. She found herself before 
the large gates of the Summer Palace. A small 
gate to the right of the large one was thrown open. 
Palace eunuchs appeared and invited the young 
women to enter. They passed into a court beyond 
which was another more beautiful than any A-lu-te 
had ever seen. 

There were exquisite flowers in profusion and 
small pink flowering mimosa trees from the branches 
of which hung gilt cages holding canary birds 
singing sweetly. In the centre of the court was 
a marble basin filled with fragrant lotus-blossoms; 
water from wonderfully carved marble fountains 
sparkled in the sunlight. 

A-lu-te had scarcely time to take in the beauty 
of the scene when they were conducted to a large 
pavilion. Here tea and little cakes were served to 
them. The Manchu maidens tittered and talked 
among themselves, giving no heed to A-lu-te who 


76 


The Breath of the Dragon 


sat apart as if not one of them. Many of these 
youthful candidates for the Imperial Harem were 
pretty or would have been except for their vacant 
expressions. When they had drunk their tea, 
they moved about the hall, showing off to one 
another their handsome gowns, the ornaments in 
their smooth hair, their daintily embroidered 
shoes. Or they sat on the stiff-backed ebony 
chairs, chatting, and now and again breaking into 
little screams of laughter. They were thought- 
less, capricious, puerile, and grossly ignorant. 
Others, the less pretty ones, huddled together, 
frightened, sad-eyed, thinking of the life that would 
be theirs within the Palace walls; their liberty 
gone, their souls embittered, their days ruled by 
eunuchs, and, except in name, not even concu- 
bines, if the Old Buddha so willed. For them the 
sun would set over a life withered from the start, 
the flower of their youth never having bloomed. 

More than two hours passed and still no one 
came to summon them before the Empress Dow- 
ager. The pretty ones yawned, or examined the 
furnishings of the room. On the walls hung long 
white silk panels on which were painted golden 
characters. Flowery scrolls, they were called. 
They were suspended in pairs; the inscriptions 
were contrasts, antitheses, the lights and shades 
of the poet’s thoughts, the painter’s fancy. Be- 
fore one of these ornamental scrolls stood a small, 
plump girl. She had a round baby face and eyes 
full of caprice and cunning. Upon the scroll she 


The Great Empress Dowager 77 


was examining was written: “The bright sun rises 
over the eastern mountains. A new glory re- 
awakens the earth to the impulse of spring. The 
pink peach flowers open their beauties to the 
light and the heart of youth to love.” 

“I wish I knew what is written there,” she said. 

A tall girl, with cheeks thickly daubed with 
almond paste and crimson paint, tossed her head 
scornfully. 

“What! you have not learned to read? How 
ignorant you are!” 

“No more than you,” retorted the pretty plump 
one quickly. The others laughed. The tall girl 
replied haughtily: “You are in error, I read with 
ease.” 

“What says the Flowery scroll?” challenged the 
pretty one. 

The tall girl struck an affected attitude, studied 
the panel a moment in silence, and in a singsong 
voice said glibly, “Our primary duty is to make 
our family illustrious and bring glory to our race.” 

Her companions were impressed, she had vindi- 
cated to their complete satisfaction her pretensions 
to read. 

A-lu-te smiled disdainfully. 

The door opened; a tall, magnificently clad 
eunuch entered. He wore the red button and 
peacock feather, insignias of exalted rank, never 
before accorded a eunuch. A-lu-te thought she 
had seldom seen so ugly a man. His eyes gleamed 
like live coals in his sunken orbits. His jaw was 


78 


The Breath of the Dragon 


lean and heavy; his lower lip protruded. The 
expression of his face was a curious blending of 
the servility of a slave and the cold cruelty of a 
despot. His manners were as polished as the 
handsome jade buckle which held his belt together. 
The eunuch was Li Lien Ying, known throughout 
the Middle Kingdom as P’i Hsiao Li, or Cobbler’s 
Wax Li, the powerful Chamberlain before whom 
even royal princes and famous statesmen forgot 
to be haughty. He bowed ceremoniously to the 
young Manchu girls and addressed to each some 
comment attesting his knowledge of her father’s 
rank in the capital or province, or something of 
her family history. They in turn showed him a 
marked deference. Perhaps because A-lu-te was 
afraid of him and resented the slight shudder 
which passed over her slender figure, she drew 
herself very straight and returned his gaze haugh- 
tily. 

Li gave her another look of penetrating keen- 
ness which she bore without flinching, though her 
heart throbbed painfully. He did not speak to 
her. His manner had suddenly changed; he was 
no longer the suave courtier, but the influential 
confidant and adviser of the Empress Dowager, 
the man whose caprice or hatred all at Court 
except his royal mistress had learnt to fear. He 
bowed again to the young women, turned, and 
left the room. Soon Palace eunuchs appeared. 
The names of ten of the young women were read 
aloud. They were then conducted to the imperial 


The Great Empress Dowager 79 

pavilion where her Majesty, the Empress Dowager 
herself, would inspect them. The five girls whose 
names were not read were invited to return to their 
homes. They were presented with bolts of silk 
and boxes of sweetmeats which servants carried 
before them to their chairs. Cobbler’s Wax Li 
had passed judgment upon them. They were 
not worthy of being presented to the Empress 
Dowager for selection for the Emperor’s harem. 

Among the rejected was A-lu-te. 

Her four slighted companions rose hastily to 
leave the Summer Palace. Their first feeling of 
humiliation was quickly forgotten in a pleasant 
realization that they had escaped the slavery of 
life behind the Palace walls. No one noticed 
that A-lu-te remained behind in the empty pavilion. 

She had not prepared herself for the possibility 
of not being admitted to the Empress Dowager’s 
presence. Her precautions had been too care- 
fully taken, her plans too well laid that Li should 
have divined her identity, and fully aware of the 
comeliness of her person, she had not deemed it in 
the least probable that the Chief Eunuch would 
pass adversely upon her physical merits. What 
then had induced him to reject her? Had she 
succeeded so far in her perilous undertaking, only 
to be balked at the very doors of the Palace? An 
hour passed as she sat in the empty hall thinking 
deeply. Then she rose and -stepped out into the 
court. At the same moment the Chief Eunuch, 
followed by his personal attendants, entered the 


8o 


The Breath of the Dragon 


court, from the opposite direction. When he 
saw A-lu-te, his face grew dark as if the shadow 
of a thunder-cloud had fallen athwart it. He 
turned to one of his menials, the same who had 
escorted the rejected Manchu maidens from the 
Palace enclosure. 

“How is this, dog?” he exclaimed in an angry 
voice. “Why did you fail to assist the honour- 
able lady to her chair at the outer gate?” 

The trembling servant replied that he thought 
she had been with those whom he had seen depart. 

“Fifty blows of the big bamboo,” ordered Li. 

Instantly the fellow was seized and thrown 
down, his back bared and the blows administered. 
His ashen face was prone on the ground; except 
for the quivering of his flesh he lay as one dead. 

With a sneer undisguised beneath his suavity, 
Li turned to A-lu-te. “Through the negligence 
of my servant, I am rewarded; to me falls the 
honour of escorting you to your chair.” 

“It is unnecessary; I am not seeking my chair,” 
replied A-lu-te calmly. 

Li looked at her and as he looked his anger 
grew. 

“The gate lies yonder,” he said harshly. “Go.” 

“I have been summoned to appear before her 
sacred Majesty, the Empress Dowager. Do you 
presume to interfere with her commands? Stand 
aside and let me pass.” 

The face of the Chief Eunuch became purple. 
Never since the death of An Te-hai, the former 


The Great Empress Dowager 81 


powerful favourite of Tzu Hsi, had royal prince 
or statesman dared speak to him in this manner. 

“Woman,” his voice was a low snarl, “know 
that without my consent no one may enter the 
Precinct. Make haste and begone.” 

He seized her arm. A-lu-te, with a quick move- 
ment, wrenched herself from his grasp and before 
either Li or his attendants realized, or could pre- 
vent her, she had flown past them into the ad- 
joining court and on into the next and next. 
Finally as her breath was failing, and the pur- 
suing, shouting eunuchs were close upon her, she 
came to a large quadrangular garden filled with 
beautiful flowering shrubs and rare exotic plants 
in great cloisonne pots. At the farther end of 
this garden she saw a magnificent building, 
covered with wonderful carving. On the wide 
veranda of the building hung innumerable lan- 
terns of buffalo horn, shaded with red silk. At- 
tached to every lantern was a red silk tassel from 
the end of which was suspended a handsome jade 
ornament. On the doors of this palace, in great 
red characters, blazed the word“Shou” (Long 
Life). The shrill, staccato voices of the eunuchs 
broke into a yell of triumph, for A-lu-te was almost 
in the grasp of her pursuers. The doors of the 
palace were thrown open and a woman appeared 
upon the threshold. 

She was below the average in height. Her 
figure was slender and perfectly proportioned; 
her manner of holding herself was at once graceful 

6 


82 


The Breath of the Dragon 


and imperious. Her dark flashing eyes were 
veiled by long lashes. Although she was not 
beautiful, her whole personality had something 
in it striking and fascinating. She was dressed 
in a gown of sea-green silk embroidered with 
white water-lilies. In her black glossy hair 
gleamed a lily made of white jade and coral; the 
delicate petals swayed with every motion of her 
head. A magnificent pearl necklace hung down 
to her waist. Her slender wrists were adorned 
with pearl bracelets of rare beauty; on the third 
and fourth fingers were long gold nail-shields 
incrusted with pearls. Her shapely feet were 
encased in green silk shoes embroided to match her 
gown and ornamented with tassels of pearl. She 
appeared to be a woman of thirty -five; as a matter 
of fact she was over fifty. Such was Tzu Hsi, the 
great Empress Dowager of China. Behind her, 
straining forward the better to see, stood a group 
of gaily-gowned ladies. They were insipid-looking 
dolls with red and white daubed cheeks, pencilled 
eyebrows, and brilliant carmine patches on their lips. 

A-lu-te flung herself on the ground and kow- 
towed. From under her long lashes Tzu Hsi 
looked at her in amazement. The court ladies 
gasped. It was in truth a strange spectacle, this 
which confronted them — a beautiful and richly 
dressed young Manchu woman, a stranger to 
them all, forcing her way into the sacred presence, 
pursued by shouting, angry Palace eunuchs and 
by the great Chamberlain himself. 


The Great Empress Dowager 83 


What means this uproar ?” demanded Tzu 
Hsi. The Chief Eunuch pointed angrily to 
A-lu-te prostrate on the ground. “She came 
with the other candidates to present herself for 
the Imperial Women’s Palace, but was dismissed 
with the customary gifts. An hour later she 
was discovered roaming through the courts seek- 
ing, no doubt, in her deep guile and ignorance of 
his absence, to encounter the Emperor.” 

Tzu Hsi frowned. This was indeed an offence 
passed pardoning. The ten maidens, belonging 
to the beauty and fashion of the Manchu aristo- 
cracy, who had passed before her critical eye 
that morning, were already lodged in a special 
part of the Palace to be instructed in court 
manners and etiquette. Later they would a- 
gain appear before her, and according to the 
knowledge obtained of their dispositions and 
characters, she would retain them at the Sum- 
mer Palace in her own service, or send them to 
the Yellow City to be wives — if he so desired — 
of their sovereign, the young Emperor, Kuang- 
Hsu. 

For a maiden to try and show herself to the 
Emperor before the Empress Dowager had passed 
upon her and assigned her to her place, was an 
unheard-of procedure. 

“What is your name? Speak girl!” she com- 
manded, addressing A-lu-te. 

* 4 Wangti, ’ ’ came the soft answer. * ‘Your hand- 
maiden is the daughter of your servant Lord Ko 


8 4 


The Breath of the Dragon 


Lin Ch’in in Pao-Chou and niece of your servant 
Lord Yin in Peking/’ 

A-lu-te had a low, sweet voice, pleasant to the 
ear, her enunciation was clear, her intonation 
excellent. The Empress Dowager laid stress on 
such matters. 

“Your conduct is extraordinary. What have 
you to say concerning it?” 

“Yonder Palace menial — he with the gross and 
ugly face who just spoke — essayed to prevent your 
handmaiden from presenting herself before your 
Majesty’s August Presence in obedience to her 
Imperial Decree.” 

All stood aghast at the intrepidity of this speech. 
The Chief Eunuch gnashed his teeth in rage. He 
waited with ill-concealed impatience to inflict 
the punishment he was convinced would be ordered 
administered upon this audacious creature. 

But the great Old Buddha — as Tzu Hsi was 
called by the eunuchs — was a woman of impulse. 
She was kind, gentle, gracious, and affable when 
no passion excited her. Also the present situa- 
tion appealed to her sense of humour, of which she 
possessed an abundant and varied store. 

“What think you of your portrait, Li? Gross 
and ugly! You had best mend your life and so 
cure the first defect. As for the second, pray to 
the gods to tell you a remedy. I know of none 
myself.” 

She laughed again. “Get up, girl, and let me 
have a look at you,” she said. 


The Great Empress Dowager 85 


A-lu-te rose and stood with downcast eyes 
before her. 

“Hem,” said the Empress Dowager, “your 
face at least cannot be called ugly.” She chuckled 
and threw a malicious glance at her discomfited 
Chamberlain. Li dug his nails deep into the 
palms of his hands. He inwardly swore to be 
avenged not only upon the girl but upon all her 
family to her most distant relation. 

“Would you like to remain with me?” asked 
the Empress Dowager, tipping up A-lu-te’s chin 
and smiling into her eyes. She had a charm when 
she chose to exert it, which was irresistible. 

“Yes,” replied A-lu-te, clasping her hands 
together. Her eagerness was not assumed. Tzii 
Hsi was pleased. She patted the girl’s cheek. 

“We will see how you behave yourself. You 
must not give us any more of your portraits, 
however, or I fancy you will get into trouble — 
with the court painters.” She laughed again; 
then turned and entered the imperial pavilion. 

“Come,” she called over her shoulder. 

A-lu-te hastened to obey. She had no desire 
to be left alone with the Chief Eunuch. She 
seemed to read in his small, glittering eyes, as he 
looked at her, something fiend-like. 

The court ladies whispered to one another in 
low, excited voices, as they gently pushed her 
through the heavy blue satin portieres into the 
throne room. 

A-lu-te had a confused impression of walls, 


The Breath of the Dragon 


86 

\ 

made of beautiful, carved open woodwork, lined 
with blue satin; of teakwood screens inlaid with 
lapis-lazuli ; of wonderful cloisonne vases ; of 
pyramids of sweet-smelling fruits and bowls of 
perfumed “Buddha’s hands”; of rare orchids in 
priceless jardinieres, and everywhere flowers in 
bewildering profusion. 

Tzu Hsi resumed her interrupted painting — 
the branch of a plum-tree in bloom. 

“Can you read?” she asked. 

■ “Yes.” 

Tzu Hsi nodded with satisfaction. Few of the 
Manchu ladies at her Court could either read or 
write. 

“Have you studied The Five Ching and The Four 
Shtl '?" 

“Your handmaiden has read them.” 

“I will see how well you remember what you 
have read. I will recite and you will finish what 
I begin.” 

There were few pastimes which the Empress 
Dowager, whose memory was prodigious, enjoyed 
more than quoting from the classics and from her 
favourite authors. She often entertained herself 
in this manner with Wang, a scholarly eunuch in 
the palace. 

“Do you know The Doctrine of the Mean?" she 
asked. 

“Yes,” replied A-lu-te. 

Tzu Hsi determined to put this assumption of 
knowledge to a severe test. If the girl had lied 


The Great Empress Dowager 87 


to her, or even bragged unduly, she would turn her 
over to Li, to be punished and ejected from the 
Palace. 

Tzu Hsi had a supreme contempt for those who 
affected a knowledge they did not possess. 

In an exquisitely modulated voice, sweet and 
musical as the sound of a lute, she began to recite, 
gracefully gesticulating with her hand. 

“The heaven now before us is only this bright 
shining spot ; but when viewed in its inexhaustible 
extent, the sun, moon, stars, and constellations 
of the Zodiac are suspended in it, and all things 
are overspread by it.” 

She paused. 

“The earth before us is but a handful of soil,” 
quoted A-lu-te in her fresh young voice, “but 
when regarded in its breadth and thickness, it 
sustains mountains like the Hwfi and the Yo, 
without feeling their weight, and contains the 
rivers and seas without their leaking away.” 

Tzu Hsi smiled, well-pleased, and continued: 

“The mountain now before us appears only a 
stone, but when contemplated in all the vastness 
of its size, we see how the grass and trees are pro- 
duced on it and birds and beasts dwell on it, and 
precious things which men treasure up are found 
on it.” 

She paused again. Without hesitation A-lu-te 
carried on the quotation. 

“The water now before us appears but a ladle- 
ful, yet extending our view to its unfathomable 


88 The Breath of the Dragon 

depths, the largest tortoises, iguanas, iguanodons, 
dragons, fishes, and turtles are produced in them, 
articles of value and sources of wealth abound in 
them.” 

“Good! Good!” cried the Empress Dowager, 
“you have read and remembered well.” She now 
recited a long poem from the Book of Odes. 

“You know that?” she asked when she had 
concluded the poem. 

“Yes, it is from the Odes of Ts’in,” replied 
A-lu-te. 

“Ah! We shall get along famously together!” 
declared Tzu Hsi. “You have some wit and 
knowledge in your head, which is more than I can 
say for most of the ladies here,” and she waved her 
delicate little hand disdainfully toward the doll- 
like group standing near. 

“Have you knowledge of history?” she con- 
tinued her catechism. 

“A little,” said A-lu-te. 

“ It is a splendid study for men.. History is not 
much use to a woman unless she is an empress. 
Now, I have derived benefit from the study of 
dynasties and the separate reigns of the emperors. 
I know them all perfectly. The Tang dynasty 
is one of the most interesting. Tao-tsung had a 
fine mind; we are indebted to him for the preser- 
vation of the classics and for the wonderful system 
of literary examination which has made my coun- 
try the most learned in the world and my states- 
men the most enlightened. And the Empress 


The Great Empress Dowager 89 


Wu, what a great woman we have there! What 
can you tell me of her?” 

“She was a fei in the Palace of the Emperor 
Kau-tsung. She strangled her first-born and 
accused the Empress Wang-shi of the deed, then 
persuaded the Emperor to condemn Wang-shi 
to death and make her his Empress instead.” 

The Old Buddha waved her hand. “Yes, yes, 
but those are minor details — unimportant inci- 
dents in a great career. She extended the Em- 
pire; she formulated excellent laws for the benefit 
of the people, whose miseries she ever sought to 
alleviate, she made ” 

Tzu Hsi stopped abruptly and stared with an 
expression of anger, surprise, and disgust at the 
paint-brush she had momentarily laid down while 
recounting the excellent qualities of the Empress 
Wu. A fly had alighted on the ivory handle of 
the brush. Consternation was depicted on the 
faces of her attendants, as their eyes followed her 
gaze. 

“That,” said the Empress Dowager in slow 
accusing accents, addressing the frightened eunuch 
at the door, whose duty it was to keep flies from 
entering the apartment where her Majesty was, 
“that is the second one this week.” 

Turning to A-lu-te she said: “You see how 
badly I am served. All my servants, and all 
the court ladies too, know how I abhor those 
flies, yet no one tries to keep the creatures away 
from me, or even prevent them from actually 


90 


The Breath of the Dragon 


alighting on articles I am using! Destroy that 
brush!” she commanded the eunuch. “I am 
sorry to lose it; it was a good one. Tell the beater 
to give you twenty blows with the big bamboo. 
I shan’t paint any more today; I am no longer 
in the mood. That is always the way — no sooner 
do I find time for a little quiet recreation than I 
am harassed and tormented beyond endurance. 
The wife of a seventh-grade mandarin is better 
served than I am. Where is Cha?” 

A small white Pekingese dog was brought in. 
He bounded toward his mistress, his long, curly 
tail wagging ecstatically. “Cha is the only one 
who really wants to please me all the time.” 
She stroked the little fellow’s soft, silky hair and 
tossed him a sweetmeat which he caught dexter- 
ously in the air. Like his royal mistress he was 
devoted to sweets. He sat now on his fluffy tail 
and waved his forepaws; his small red tongue 
lolled out expectantly. She tossed him a second 
sugar dainty and patted him again. 

“That is enough; take him away,” she ordered. 

Cha was carried out feebly protesting. 

A eunuch brought a tray containing a cake 
of perfumed soap, a towel, and a bowl of hot 
water. He knelt before Tzu Hsi while she care- 
fully washed the hand which had caressed the 
dog. 

“Do you sing,” she asked A-lu-te. 

“Yes.” 

“Then come with me; I will rest and perhaps 


The Great Empress Dowager 91 


sleep if your music is soothing. Most of my people 
here have voices like cats.” 

The Empress Dowager’s nerves had been jarred. 
She felt irritable in consequence. Under ordinary 
circumstances these imperial speeches, accom- 
panied as they were by imperial favour would have 
engendered among the court ladies a feeling of 
bitter antagonism toward the favoured one and a 
desire for swift revenge. But not so now. They 
knew that A-lu-te had gained the enmity of the 
most influential person at court, namely, the 
Chief Eunuch. His revenge might be slow in 
coming, but that it would be terrible was certain. 
Had they not been witness to the proof of this 
many times? They were quite willing to leave 
everything to him and wait. 

The Empress Dowager ordered A-lu-te to take 
the Yueh-Kin, the “full-moon guitar,” an instru- 
ment of four strings, and follow her into her bed- 
room. The other ladies were commanded to 
remain without. 

In the bedroom the air was heavy with per- 
fumes. 

Near a window stood two long sandalwood 
tables covered with toilet articles, combs, almond 
paste, pink powder, lotions made of honey and 
jasmine, and scented soap of various kinds. Beau- 
tifully embroidered white silk curtains hung from 
the carved sandalwood frame over the bed. On 
the yellow brocade mattresses were soft sheets of 
pink, blue, green, mauve, and violet silk; pillows of 


92 


The Breath of the Dragon 


the same shades, richly embroidered, completed 
this riot of colour which in delicacy and loveliness 
resembled a variegated flower-garden. When the 
dainty form of Tzu Hsi was stretched on this gay 
bed and her head was pillowed on her favourite 
cushion of tea-leaves, she might have been taken 
for a fairy reclining on a fragrant bouquet. 

“Sing,” she said to A-lu-te, and closed her eyes. 

The girl struck the strings of the guitar with 
her nail and in a soft plaintive voice, pitched in 
the falsetto key, sang the Bridal Song from the 
Shi King: 


Ho, graceful little peach tree, 

Brightly thy blossoms bloom 
Go, maiden, to thy husband, 

Adorn his hall, his room. 

A-lu-te sang verse after verse while the Empress 
Dowager watched her from under half-closed 
eyelids. She felt irresistibly attracted towards 
her, and determined to keep her in the Palace. 
She had no intention of permitting her to enter 
the Emperor’s harem. This was not because the 
girl was pretty — among the imperial concubines 
were many quite as good to look upon as she — 
but because her attractive personality was com- 
bined with fearlessness and quick intelligence. 
Such characteristics were dangerous ones to place 
near the Emperor. Moreover if the girl bore him 
a son, her own days of absolute power would be 


The Great Empress Dowager 93 


imperilled. Had she not risen to be autocrat 
of all China because she herself had wit, beauty, 
and had attained motherhood? It would be 
supreme folly to risk a repetition of such a thing 
in the Palace. She had selected the first and 
second wives of the young Emperor and all his 
concubines with the utmost care for this very 
reason. Many of these women were beautiful, 
all were insipid, and the Emperor, like herself, 
could only tolerate, never like, stupid people. 
To be sure the young Empress — her niece — had 
a certain keen intelligence, but was nevertheless 
harmless. She was not attractive; her teeth were 
black, her skin sallow, her figure bad, and her 
admiration and fear of her royal aunt all that 
could be desired. Kuang Hsu detested this wife 
of his. He had evinced his dislike the first day 
of their marriage by throwing his shoe at her. 
Tzu Hsi had carefully fostered the estrangement 
till now only a thinly veiled enmity existed be- 
tween the two, an enmity most useful to her own 
purpose. 

While these thoughts flashed through the Im- 
perial Lady’s mind, A-lu-te finished her song. 

The Empress Dowager pretended to sleep. 

A-lu-te stood quite still, gazing long and thought- 
fully upon the charming face. 

The dark eyes which gave to the royal coun- 
tenance that look of vivacious intelligence were 
hidden under long black lashes; the soft olive of 
the complexion was free from paint or cosmetics; 


94 


The Breath of the Dragon 


about the rather large mouth lurked a smile, 
sweet and appealing as that of a child; in the 
small firm chin alone lay a suggestion of that 
iron will which brooked no opposition and which 
had helped to make Tzu Hsi the greatest woman 
in the history of China. As A-lu-te looked, she 
wondered if it could be true that this gracious 
little lady was the same who had commanded her 
adopted father to commit suicide and who had 
condemned Fen-Sha, her playmate, friend, and 
betrothed, to the lingering death, to the dreadful 
slicing process. 

Tzu Hsi suddenly opened her eyes wide. A-lu-te 
started guiltily. 

“Well? What do you think of me?” The 
silver voice rang with an amused challenge. 

“Your handmaiden thinks that your Majesty 
and Kuan Yin” (the Goddess of Mercy) “must be 
sisters, so great is their resemblance to each other,” 
returned A-lu-te. Now one of the favourite diver- 
sions of the Empress Dowager was taking part in 
elaborate court pageants attired as Kuan Yin, 
to whom she loved above all things to be compared. 
A-lu-te’s quick reply was therefore a particularly 
happy one and greatly pleased the Empress 
Dowager. 

- “Wangti,” she said softly, “comehere — nearer — 
so.” A-lu-te sank on her knees by the bed. 
Tzu Hsi touched the bowed head lightly, tenderly. 
“ I do not know why it is, but I feel as if I had al- 
ways known you — always loved you, and I want 


The Great Empress Dowager 95 

you always to try and please me, so that I need 
never have cause to be angry with you. Please 
promise me this, will you?” 

“Yes,” said A-lu-te in a low voice. 

“Call one of the eunuchs in attendance in the 
outer room,” commanded the Empress Dowager, 
and when he appeared she issued a few rapid 
orders. The eunuch kowtowed and hastened 
from the royal bedroom. Turning to A-lu-te 
again, Tzu Hsi said: “You can go now and rest 
till I send for you. I have assigned the eunuch 
S’ang to be your servant. He will show you your 
room. One of the court ladies, Chou-Chau, has 
the same house with you; you need not be polite 
to her.” 

When A-lu-te left the room the court ladies in 
attendance crowded around her. The eyes of 
some expressed ill-will, others merely vapid curi- 
osity. A-lu-te was plied with questions which 
she was at no pains to answer. ‘ * I am commanded 
to seek my room; I cannot stay to talk,” she said, 
and followed the eunuch who was to conduct her 
to her pavilion. A-lu-te had successfully installed 
herself in the Summer Palace. Would she succeed 
as well in the next step of her perilous plan? 
This was the question she asked herself as she 
followed her guide. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE PERILS IN THE PALACE 

The pavilion in which A-lu-te found herself 
was a charming little building overlooking terraces 
resplendent with flowers. The pavilion, with its 
gaily painted pillars, its bright tiled roof and or- 
namental eaves and general look of an exquisite 
Oriental tent solidified, resembled, except in 
size, most of the dwellings in the Summer Palace. 

In A-lu-te’s room, the windows commanded a 
marvellous view of hills, temples, and lake. Rose- 
silk awnings shed a soft subdued light in the inte- 
rior; rose-silk hangings showed through the 
interstices of the screen-like walls, and rose-silk 
cushions covered the ebony chairs and K’ang. A 
fresh sweet fragrance from the flower-filled courts 
permeated the air. It was a retreat to rest in, 
to dream pleasant dreams. But A-lu-te was in- 
different to its charm. She dropped into a chair, 
a sense of unreality upon her. She thought of 
her journey to Peking as maid to the care-free, 
happy foreign girl, of her arrival in the capital, 
her beggar’s disguise; her old amah's joy at seeing 
her again, her search for Fen-Sha’s friend; her 
96 


The Perils in the Palace 


97 


visit to the house of Lady Yin, and finally her 
presence in Wan Shou Shan. All this appeared 
to her a phantasmagoria. She asked herself 
whether it was true that she was in the Summer 
Palace; that she had really passed the scrutiny of 
the formidable Chief Eunuch and successfully 
ingratiated herself with the Empress Dowager. 
How would it all end? Would she succeed in 
saving Fen-Sha, or would she not only lose her 
own life, but hasten, the execution of his terrible 
death sentence? 

These reflections clashed in her head, till her 
brain grew weary and her heart grew chill and 
heavy. But her indomitable courage and confi- 
dence — the two strong pinions of her soul — soon 
bore her up again from the depth of despondency. 
She now recalled every word and look the Em- 
press Dowager had given her; they indicated 
something more than mere transitory liking for 
the young stranger who had forced her way into 
the royal presence, something more than passing 
pleasure in her personality and her intelligence. 
A-lu-te was sure of this; for she herself had ex- 
perienced a strange sense of attraction, even of 
sympathy for the great Empress, and this in spite 
of the causes she had to hate and abhor her. 

As these thoughts passed in rapid succession 
through A-lu-te’s mind she was subconsciously 
aware of the recurrent sound of a hard rasping 
cough. The cough now became a paroxysm, 
lasting several minutes. A-lu-te rose, entered 

.. i j 


98 


The Breath of the Dragon 


the middle hall, and followed the direction from 
which came this painful sound. It led her into a 
small unattractive room. A thin little figure, 
gaily clad, lay on the K’ang. 

A-lu-te first thought she was in the presence of 
some child, till drawing nearer she saw that the 
small sickly face belonged to a young woman. 

She remembered suddenly that the Empress 
Dowager had said, “One of the court ladies — 
Chou-Chau — shares the house with you. You 
need not be polite to her.” 

“Are you the Lady Chou-Chau?” she asked. 

The young woman, unaware of A-lu-te’s en- 
trance till she spoke, rose hastily from the K’ang 
and courtsied. 

“Yes,” she said in a frightened voice. “Am I 
late? Has Lao Fo Yeh” (the great Old Buddha) 
“sent you for me?” 

“No, I heard you coughing. You look sick; 
can I help you?” 

An expression of surprise, almost incredulity, 
swept over the thin face of Chou-Chau. “You 
heard me coughing and came to help me? How 
curious!” she exclaimed. 

“Why is it strange that I should wish to help 
you?” asked A-lu-te. 

“Why?” answered the other, staring hard at 
her visitor. “Because it is not customary here 
to help any one.” 

Her voice was not bitter. She was merely 
imparting information to one inquiring for it. 


The Perils in the Palace 


99 


A-lu-te shivered a little and was silent. 

“When did you come?” continued Chou-Chau. 

“This morning.” 

“Is your room in this house?” 

“Yes, on the other side of the hall.” 

“The large room with the rose curtains? It is 
pretty in there. Sometimes I stop to look in 
when I pass the door.” 

“The next time you must come inside and sit 
down.” 

Again Chou-Chau appeared surprised. She 
turned to a small lacquer cabinet, opened a drawer, 
and took from it some red and white paint which 
she proceeded to apply in an inartistic manner 
to her forehead, cheeks, and lips. With a charred 
stick she blackened her eyebrows to resemble a 
crescent moon. When her task was completed 
she resembled a mocking death’s head, grotesquely 
painted. “I must go now. It is my turn to sit 
today,” she said. 

‘ 1 To sit ! What do you mean ? ” inquired A-lu-te 
curiously. 

“When Lao Fo Yeh takes her nap some of the 
court ladies watch in her room.” 

“Then you need not hurry; her Majesty has 
already had her nap,” said A-lu-te. 

This announcement threw Chou-Chau into the 
greatest consternation. “She has had her nap!” 
she cried, wringing her hands. “Yet it is a full 
hour before her usual time. Oh ! what shall I do ! 
What shall I do!” 


ioo The Breath of the Dragon 


“If, as you say, it is a full hour before her usual 
time why are you so frightened? It is not your 
fault that you were not on time.” 

“What difference does that make? I shall be 
punished just the same. I only came back to 
rest a little while — I was so tired and my cough 
bothered me. And now I am late!” She looked 
terrified. 

A-lu-te did not attempt to disguise the scorn 
she felt for such pusillanimity. “Don’t be so 
frightened. One would suppose you were going 
to receive a beating — like any slave girl or 
eunuch.” 

Chou-Chau ceased wringing her hands. Her 
expression changed abruptly from pronounced 
fear to quiet amusement. A-lu-te felt a return 
of that little shiver which had come to her before 
in this room. 

“It is plain to be seen that you are a newcomer 
here.” 

With these words Chou-Chau hurried from the 
pavilion. 

A certain faintness came to A-lu-te, as one 
overpowered with sudden weariness. 

In the middle hall she saw that the eunuch S’ang 
had returned. 

“Will you have tea?” he asked. 

She shook her head and entered her room. A 
few minutes later S’ang appeared with a tray 
upon which was a bowl of tea, also some bread 
stuffed with mince-meat. 


The Perils in the Palace 


IOI 


“Eat, it is time,” he said and placed the tray 
before her. 

“Eat,” repeated the eunuch. 

Mechanically A-lu-te drank the tea, but left 
the bread untasted. 

She pushed the tray from her. 

“Remove it,” she ordered. 

She sank on the K’ang and closed her eyes. 
Her interview with Chou-Chau had unaccountably 
left her with less hope, less courage. She had but a 
week in which to save Fen-Sha; until now she 
had not faltered in her daring plan; she had sur- 
mounted the worst difficulties by the very audacity 
with which she had encountered them; she had 
faced, it may be, the worst dangers awaiting her, 
and yet a few words dropped from the mouth of a 
sickly woman had sapped her courage, left her 
unnerved, frightened, without knowing why. 
She gritted her teeth and moaned aloud. 

S’ang heard her. “Are you in pain? ” he asked, 
coming in. 

“Yes. My head is hurting me.” 

The eunuch disappeared and returned again 
with two mulberry leaves steeped in vinegar; he 
laid them on her temples. ‘ ‘ It will cure the pain, ’ ’ 
he said. She heard him later in the middle hall, 
reading or reciting in a low voice. The monoto- 
nous sound had a quieting effect on her. She fell 
into a half doze, during which she was vaguely 
conscious of trying to hear what he was saying. 
From this uneasy sleep she soon awakened to be 


102 


The Breath of the Dragon 


tormented again with the knowledge of Fen-Sha’s 
fate. She tried to picture what life would be 
without him, haunted as she would be with the 
remembrance of his terrible death. The blood 
mounted into her cheeks, she pressed her hands 
over her eyes as if to shut out the picture, then 
another came to her, a picture of herself, living 
out long dreary years behind the palace walls, the 
slave of a capricious old woman and perhaps — 
she clinched her teeth again — of a dissolute young 
man. “Never that, never that,” she whispered 
hoarsely. She buried her head in her outstretched 
arms and fell to weeping bitterly. 

S’ang’s voice roused her. 

“You are unhappy,” he said. “I know nothing 
of your sorrows, but I know the means wherewith 
you can dispel them like clouds before the wind.” 

A-lu-te turned towards him with eager, ques- 
tioning gaze. 

Silently the eunuch held out a small book. 

“Oh, that!” said A-lu-te contemptuously; “I 
have tried it — it is worthless.” 

[ She thought he had a copy of the Imperial 
Almanac, which is published yearly under the 
authority of the Astronomical Board, and contains 
lists of the lucky and unlucky days. 

“Read,” said S’ang still holding out the book. 

Her eyes rested carelessly on the cover. She 
read aloud, “The Gospel of St. John.” 

“It is not the almanac then. What is this St. 
John?” she asked. 


The Perils in the Palace 


103 

'‘He was the loved disciple of our Lord,” replied 
the eunuch. 

‘ ‘ Of Sakya-muni Buddha ? I do not know him, ’ * 
she said indifferently. 

“Nay, nay, not of Buddha; but of the Lord 
Jesus Christ.” 

“Ah, now I recall hearing that name; he is the 
idol worshipped by the foreigners.” 

“He is not an idol. He is our Lord,” returned 
S’ang. 

A-lu-te leaned forward and regarded the eunuch 
intently. 

“S’ang,” she said in a low voice, “are you a 
worshipper of this God of the foreigners?” 

“Yes, lady,” he replied simply. 

“And you dare admit it! You dare offer 
prayers to the strange God, here, in the very 
Palace of the Empress Dowager ? Profound would 
be your sleep tonight if I were to tell her!” 

“You will not tell her,” he replied quietly. 

“Why not?”' 

“Because you are different from those who are 
here and you do not hate the foreigners.” A sud- 
den fear of him came over A-lu-te. Did this eunuch 
know more of her than the others? 

“What cause have you for thinking I do not 
hate them?” she asked, trying to keep the fear 
from her voice. 

“You call them foreigners and not devils and 
barbarians.” 

“You are right, I do not hate them. I have 


104 The Breath of the Dragon 

indeed cause to be grateful to them.” In her 
relief she admitted more than she had intended. 
But S’ang noticed the admission only to reply, 
“And I,” with such fervour, A-lu-te was moved 
to ask what benefits he had received from the 
foreigners. 

“They taught me to know and love the Lord 
Jesus Christ.” 

* ‘ Oh, that ! ” said the girl shrugging her shoulders. 

“I was unhappy even as you are,” continued 
the eunuch, “I was as one groping in a black pit, 
without hope, without a morrow. Disgust and 
weariness were my companions throughout the 
day and lay down with me when I sought my bed 
at night. Then I was led from the blackness of 
the pit into the bright sunlight, into the pure air; 
joy came to me and peace. These, too, can be 
yours, if you will learn to know, to believe in the 
Lord Jesus.” 

“Your God is powerless to help me,” said A-lu-te 
gloomily, and added: “Leave me now; I have need 
of rest.” 

He turned to go when she called sharply to him. 
He came back, standing quietly before her. 

“This God of yours, does he help those who ask 
it of him?” 

“Yes, if they believe in Him.” 

“Do you believe?” 

“As truly as that I am now alive, standing in 
this room in your presence;” he spoke the words 
slowly with deep solemnity. 


The Perils in the Palace 105 

'‘Have you ever wanted anything so much you 
would give your life to obtain it?” she asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Well, and have you asked your God to give it 
to you?” 

“Yes, I ask Him every morning when I wake 
and every night before I sleep.” 

“Then it appears this God of yours won’t help 
you after all, since you must needs ask him day 
after day and night after night; your God is no 
better, no more merciful, no more powerful than 
any other god, than Buddha for instance, before 
whom I have prostrated myself so many times in 
prayer I have fainted from fatigue, and all without 
avail.” 

She spoke bitterly. 

“I have faith that my prayers will be answered. 
I am content to wait.” 

The eunuch gazed out of the window on the 
temple-crowned hills in the distance. His lips 
moved, though no sound fell from them. 

“You are praying,” said A-lu-te, watching him 
curiously. “What are you asking this God of the 
foreigners?” 

For a moment the eunuch looked troubled and 
hesitated. 

“I cannot tell you,” he said. 

“You mean, you will not,” returned A-lu-te 
haughtily. ‘ ‘ Stop and consider. Do I not already 
hold your life in the palm of my hand? I have 
only to tell Lao Fo Yeh that you pray to the 


106 The Breath of the Dragon 

foreign God and you know well what will happen. 
Now listen to me. I am in great trouble. I will 
prostrate myself before this foreign God and pray 
to him, if you can convince me that he is powerful 
enough to help me.” 

“I will try to convince you.” 

‘‘But how can I know that you are not deceiving 
me if later you come to me declaring your petition 
has been granted, since you refuse to tell me what 
that petition is?” 

The eunuch looked earnestly at A-lu-te, then, as 
if possessed of a sudden resolve, said : ‘ ‘ My peti- 
tions are for the Emperor. My prayers are that he 
may be taught the true faith, the Christian faith.” 

“What!” exclaimed A-lu-te, surprised for a 
moment into forgetting her troubles. “You pray 
for a thing like that! What foolishness to waste 
breath in such prayers! Moreover who would 
have the presumption to try and induce the Lord 
of Ten Thousand Years to forswear the religion 
of his Ancestors?” 

“I,” replied the eunuch. His eyes flashed with 
a strange light ; on his pale, thin face was depicted 
an ecstacy of hope. 

A-lu-te looked at him in amazement. “You!” 

“Yes, even I.” 

“But you are not of his household. You can 
never approach him, much less can you seek per- 
mission to address him,” she reminded him. 

“God will help me. He will find a way.” He 
spoke with the conviction of perfect faith. 


The Perils in the Palace 


107 


“Yes — when the Yellow River runs dry. You 
are aiming at the impossible,” said A-lu-te with 
an accent of impatience. It seemed to her that 
the eunuch’s prayers and belief were not only 
useless but essentially paltry; that they did not 
deserve time for speculation or discussion. 

“To those who have faith nothing is impos- 
sible,” replied S’ang. He pointed out of the 
window to a stone wall surrounding the court. 
“Do you see that tender green plant which has 
forced a passage through the thick wall yonder? 
And the other one which has made its way, while 
still a feeble small shoot, to this side and has grown 
so large and strong it has split great stones apart ? 
Have not those little plants achieved the impos- 
sible? And why should not I?” 

“Or I!” murmured A-lu-te to herself, then fell 
to studying S’ang’s face. What had taken place 
in the mind and heart of this eunuch to make him 
so different from others of his despised breed ? 

As if in answer to her unspoken thought, S’ang 
said: 

“Do you desire that I speak to you of myself? ” 

“I am listening,” replied A-lu-te. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE EUNUCH’S STORY 

“I was born in the province of Pechili,” began 
the eunuch, “in the village of Makian, two hund- 
red Us north of Peking. My father was a rich 
man. He owned camels by the score ; these, laden 
with tea and merchandise, journeyed periodically 
beyond the Great Wall, in charge of his servants. 
The cargo was sold at large profits and on its 
return the caravan carried coal from Mongolia 
to be disposed of in the Peking market. The 
business flourished and yearly grew more lucra- 
tive. My father had two wives, but my mother 
was the legitimate consort. She died the third 
year after my birth. I was six when my father 
took to his house another woman. She came 
from the south and belonged to one of the nine 
classes of professional women of evil renown. 
She was a dancer. Her beauty was great, she 
was in fact the eye of the peacock. It was said 
of her she could dance her way into any man’s 
heart and that none were so rich but that she 
could spend what they had and make them poor. 
What truth there was in these reports which came 

108 


The Eunuch’s Story 


109 


to my childish ears, I know not, I only know that 
from the day she entered my father’s abode, 
peace fled out of the door. You know the pro- 
verb: ‘One key makes no noise, but two keys 
create a jingle.’ The women quarrelled, there 
was jealousy and backbiting, and the house be- 
came a pandemonium, so that in the village there 
was a saying, ‘as noisy as the house of Tang.’ 
The new concubine was a violent-tempered woman ; 
she often caused my father to eat bitterness — a 
bitterness like that of aloe-juice — yet her influ- 
ence over him was great, and when she bore him a 
son it became supreme. One year — I was fifteen 
at the time — a sickness common in the north 
beyond the Wall struck the camels and one after 
another they died. That same year a great drought 
visited the land and our crops were killed. Dis- 
aster after disaster fell upon us, till a time came 
when we were no longer the rich family of the 
village, but the poorest. One day my aunt — the 
concubine of the south — saw me eat a millet cake 
she had laid aside for her own son. She com- 
plained of me to my father and represented to him 
that I was an idle, worthless fellow, a mere tortoise- 
egg, that I would never amount to much, and that 
the best thing which could happen to me and to 
the family was to sell me to Huang-ti. On hearing 
her speak in this manner, I was terribly frightened 
for I felt convinced she would succeed in persuad- 
ing my father to do as she wished. Huang-ti 
lived in a neighbouring village and did a thriving 


no The Breath of the Dragon 

business supplying rich mandarins, dukes, and 
princes of the blood in Peking with eunuchs. 

“I implored my father not to sell me to this 
man, for I did not want to become a eunuch, and 
he not being a hard-hearted parent was disposed 
to yield to my entreaties. But my aunt, who 
possessed a volubility of tongue truly alarming, 
reproached him with loud cries and lamentations 
for not considering the welfare of the other mem- 
bers of his family, and leaving them to suffer in 
poverty when by selling me to Huang-ti he not 
only provided me with a career which might bring 
me eventually into the Yellow City and so to large 
emoluments, if I had wit enough to procure them, 
but also enabled me to return to my father the 
benefits he had already bestowed upon me. My 
father, weary of contending with her, and it may 
be seeing sense and reason in her demand, yielded. 
I wept bitterly, but my father was obdurate. 
He told me to remember the great lesson taught in 
the Trimetrical Classic which imposes absolute 
obedience upon the child to his parent. 

“And so I left the family.” 

After a moment’s silence the eunuch continued. 

“Huang-ti entered me in the service of a Man- 
chu prince. I was in the household five years and 
became the confidential adviser, even instigator 
of every kind of wild escapade, to the seventeen- 
year-old son of the prince. One day, the princess, 
desiring to make a pilgrimage to a Buddhist mon- 
astery, commanded me to precede her in charge 


The Eunuch’s Story 


in 


of the scrolls, the silk embroidered hangings, the 
mirrors and rich cloisonne vases which were to 
be used to decorate the bare guests’ house the 
priests assign to visitors. Now I had assisted 
the young prince in an intrigue with the wife of 
a petty shopkeeper. She bore him a girl-child, 
and he not caring to be bothered with the little 
one, had her passed under the bridge” (drowned). 
‘ ‘ I was present when this was done and heard the 
frightened wail of the infant as she was dropped 
into the well, and saw the small arms stretched 
feebly up for help, as the water swallowed her. 
I had seen and shared in much wickedness, of 
which this act was not the worst, for such drown- 
ing of girl infants is not contrary to established 
usage as you know. But the memory of this 
deed stayed by me night and day ; the cry haunted 
me, the baby arms pursued me, and I finally 
determined to consult a wise man to rid me of the 
obsession. Now in passing through the village 
of Yang-lin, on my way to the monastery, I heard 
of a geomancer, residing there, one very learned in 
his craft. I stopped to see him, but he had been 
called away by a wealthy tax-gatherer to a distant 
village. As I sat before his closed house, very 
dejected, I noticed across the street, over the 
door of a miserable hut, a sign, which read : ‘ Pu- 
lun, little assistant to Jesus.’ Not knowing what 
it meant and being curious, I knocked at this door. 
A benevolent looking old man appeared in answer 
to my summons. 


1 12 The Breath of the Dragon 

‘“Are you Pu-lun?’ I inquired. 

He replied that he was indeed the man. 

“‘Then,’ continued I, not knowing what else to 
say at the moment, ‘you are the little assistant 
of Jesus. * 

“With a joyous expression he said: ‘You have 
spoken truth. Come in. Come in. ’ 

‘ ‘ I followed him into a room which, though small 
and meanly furnished, was clean. 

“‘Do you, too, love Jesus?’ he asked. 

“‘Old man,’ I said, ‘what are you talking 
about? I never saw or heard of this Jesus. How 
then should I love him? Is he your master? 
And what is his trade ? ’ 

“‘He is my Master, and His trade is teaching 
love. ’ 

“‘Ho-ho, ’ said I, laughing, ‘that is a pretty 
name for the business you follow. In the city 
we call it 9 

“‘Wait,’ commanded the old man, holding 
up his hand, ‘wait till you hear what I have to 
say. The love which the Master enjoins upon us 
is love for all mankind, the love which teaches 
kindness, purity, forgiveness, which returns good 
for evil. He who loves like this, becomes a child 
of God, his sins are forgiven him; he finds peace 
in life and eternal joy in life after death. ’ 

“I thought to myself that this kind of teaching 
was worth looking into; that although it seemed 
impractical, it might rid me of my obsession. I 
asked Pu-lun to become my instructor. He con- 


The Eunuch’s Story 


113 

sented with eagerness, and I agreed to return at 
a certain hour every week to receive his lessons. 
This I did, until the time came when the prince, 
in accordance with the law which compels rich 
nobles to supply the Imperial Palace periodically 
with one eunuch, sent me here. My visits to 
Pu-lun ceased, but the joy and the wonder of that 
which he taught me will abide with me through life. ’ ’ 

The eunuch’s narrative had made a profound 
impression upon A-lu-te. 

'‘What did this Pu-lun teach you?” she asked. 

In earnest, simple words S’ang told her the 
story of Christ as, he himself had received it from 
the lips of Pu-lun. 

“So this is the religion of the foreigner!” ex- 
claimed A-lu-te when the eunuch ceased speaking. 
“It is preposterous! Is that a good father who 
sends his dutiful son to be murdered by wicked peo- 
ple in order that they and others as wicked should 
be saved? Is that justice? Is that kindness?” 

“It is love — the highest, the most wonderful 
that can be conceived,” said S’ang. 

“Well, it is a strange love,” retorted A-lu-te. 
“As for the teachings, they do not differ greatly 
from the teachings of Buddha. Does he not tell 
us not to do evil and not to seek after riches? 
Truly the moral precepts of the God of the for- 
eigners and of Buddha are the same.” 

“They are as like as day is to night,” replied 
the eunuch. “The religion of our Lord Jesus 
Christ is the religion of Hope; the religion of 
8 


1 14 The Breath of the Dragon 

Buddha is the religion of Despair. Buddha holds 
the soul of no account; he says: ‘Eschew evil 
and in time you will cease to exist, you will be 
lost in the all-embracing Quietus, you will enter 
Nirvana — your spirit will sink into nothingness.’ 
Our Master teaches us, not only to eschew what 
is evil, but to do that which is good. He promises 
those who believe in Him, who follow his precepts, 
inexhaustible happiness and life everlasting. 
Listen to what he says.” 

S’ang opehed the book which he still held in 
his hand and in a low voice began to read. As 
A-lu-te listened she told herself that S’ang was 
right, that there was something wonderful in 
the promises the words contained, in the hope they 
inspired in an aching human heart. When he 
read: “Ask and ye shall receive,” she repeated the 
sentence over and over to herself, nor did she 
listen any more to S’ang’s voice. 

Suddenly vague shouts reached them from the 
distance. The shouts came nearer and nearer; 
they were the cries of eunuchs announcing to all 
the Palace world that “The Great Buddha wakes 
up, the Great Buddha wakes up.” 

S’ang slipped the book up his sleeve, as a eunuch 
rushed into the room, calling: “Imperial Decree 
says that Lady Wang-ti is to come before the 
Presence.” Reluctantly A-lu-te made haste to 
follow him to the pavilion of the Empress Dowager. 
She wanted to pray to the unknown God who had 
said: “Ask and ye shall receive.” 


CHAPTER X 


FAILURE 

A-lu-te found the Empress Dowager attired 
for a walk. Instead of the stilt-like Manchu 
shoes she wore on ceremonial occasions and in the 
palace, she had on a dainty pair of low-heeled 
slippers. The heavy Gu-un Dzan had been dis- 
carded and her dark hair was coiled high in a 
simple knot, ornamented with a single rose, in 
place of the jewels she had worn that morning. 
Her blue silk dress was short, not to impede her 
walking. In her hand she carried a white wand- 
like stick. She was accompanied by all the court 
ladies, among them the Lady Chou-Chau. A-lu-te 
threw a hasty glance in her direction, and noted 
that Chou-Chau was smiling with timid content- 
ment. 

The Empress Dowager called out gaily: “I 
am going for a long walk, and I shall eat in a peony 
thicket on top of a hill where the view is beautiful. 
I am very happy today, and I want everyone 
around me to be happy too.” 

The procession started, the Empress Dowager 
leading, the court ladies following. After them 
115 


Ii6 


The Breath of the Dragon 


came twenty eunuchs and six amahs , bearing 
boxes containing dresses, wraps, shoes, perfumes, 
water-pipes, handkerchiefs, looking-glasses of vari- 
ous sizes, yellow paper, and red ink. Any one of 
these articles Tzu Hsi might require during the 
next hour or two. One servant was detached 
from the procession. He walked a few steps 
behind and to one side of his royal mistress, hold- 
ing in outstretched hands a yellow satin stool 
for her to rest upon when tired. The procession 
was closed by the bearer of a large yellow bag 
filled with bamboo sticks which was always carried 
wherever her Majesty went, so that punishment 
could be promptly administered to delinquent 
servants. The Empress Dowager ordered A-lu-te 
to walk beside her. When the procession was 
forming, Chou-Chau had whispered hurriedly into 
A-lu-te’s ear: “I was only a little late; she was 
sleeping and no one noticed me ; they were talking 
about you.” 

Tzu Hsi had keen eyes and quick ears. 

“What did that woman say to you a moment 
since?” she demanded. They were following the 
fine-wrought white marble balustrading which 
stretched along the borders of the lake. 

She said she had forgotten to bring a wrap and 
asked if S’ang would fetch her one.” 

“She need not take such excellent care of her 
health. Stupid people are not scarce in this world, * * 
remarked Tzu Hsi caustically. The next minute 
her mood changed. She plucked a flower and 


Failure 


117 

held it caressingly to her cheek. '‘The heart of 
summer lies in it,” she said, “how gladsome it is, 
how sweet ! Since the days of my youth — which, 
alas, passed swiftly as an arrow’s flight — my 
greatest solace has been the contemplation of 
nature. I have commanded to be engraved on 
six thicknesses of imperial silk, these words of 
mine: ‘Study the beauties of nature — it is the 
road which leads to inward freedom and serenity. 

She stood still; her dark eyes glowing with 
tender light rested alternately on the silver-sheen 
of the lake, on the distant winding streams, the 
peony-covered terraced hillside nestling in the 
shadow of the rugged Western Hills where 
the yellow upturned temple-roofs gleamed in 
the sunlight. 

Suddenly she threw a backward glance at the 
procession of court ladies and servants and broke 
into a gay little laugh. ‘ ‘ See, how silly they look ! 
They are wondering why I am standing here star- 
ing into space. That is the way with them; they 
care nothing for a beautiful view and cannot 
comprehend any one who does. Even Li here, 
who is not without real brains, sees in nature only 
ground that is high or low, wet or dry, water 
that is smooth or rough, deep or shallow, skies 
that are bright or overcast, trees that are green 
or not according to the season, and plants with 
or without flowers. Well, you can’t teach sheep 
to climb trees, or make poets of men who have 
no ink in their stomachs. Am I right, Li?” 


n8 The Breath of the Dragon 

The Chief Eunuch, who had approached the 
instant he heard his name mentioned, replied : 

“I should be lying like a Nanking bird-hawker 
if I said no; yet I am not destitute of poetic 
imagination.” 

‘‘Poetic imagination! You! Prove it! Prove 
it!” 

‘‘In a cup of wine I admire the blush of the 
young peach. Can a poet do more except to 
rhyme what I put in prose? And perhaps to 
drink so deep of the blush that it leaves sooner 
the cup to glow triumphantly at the end of his 
nose?” retorted Li, with a broad smile. 

Tzu Hsi laughed. This servant possessed the 
art of diverting her. It was one of the reasons 
of his great influence over her. He was intelli- 
gent, witty, and when in her presence, invariably 
amiable. His manner towards A-lu-te had com- 
pletely changed; he treated her with polite defer- 
ence, showing no sign of the fierce passion for 
revenge which gnawed at his heart. The char- 
acter of the Chief Eunuch was an intricate web, 
in the midst of which his mind sat like a hideous 
and venomous spider. He had three passions, 
greed, revenge, power. He had one virtue, 
loyalty to his imperial mistress. 

1 Tzu Hsi resumed her walk. She had a quick 
light step and those who followed had much ado 
to keep pace with her. Finally they arrived at 
that part of the lake where Tzu Hsi had elected 
to take the imperial boats. Two of these boats 


Failure 


119 

resembled magnificent pagodas floating on the 
water. The Chief Eunuch assisted her Majesty 
to embark. A-lu-te was told to follow, while 
the court ladies entered the second boat. The 
imperial float was attached by yellow ropes to 
three large rowboats manned by seventy-two 
rowers, who stood to their oars as they plied them 
in unison. 

Tzu Hsi seated herself on a yellow-cushioned 
chair and invited A-lu-te to occupy the red cushion 
at her feet. The day was singularly beautiful; 
the lake smooth and crystal clear, except where 
here and there thick clusters of lotus-flowers 
rested on the water like small pink islands. As 
the little fleet receded from the marble-terraced 
banks, two eunuchs, standing in the bow of the 
Empress Dowager’s boat, began to sing. Their 
voices, musical, clear, and sweet, mingled with the 
soft sound of the water stirred by the oars of the 
rowers. 

Presently the Empress Dowager raised her 
hand. 

“Stop,” she commanded, “your song makes 
me sad. I am growing old and cannot afford to 
indulge in that feeling. In the afternoon of life 
one should beware lest one forgets how to laugh 
and be happy. Let a story be read.” 

She had scarcely given the order when she turned 
to A-lu-te. 

“Wang-ti, you shall tell me a story, but let it 
not be sad.” 


120 


The Breath of the Dragon 


‘‘Your handmaiden will relate a tale from Liao 
Chai Chih, if your illustrious Majesty permits,” 
replied A-lu-te and receiving permission she began : 

“An old woman past seventy lived in Chao 
Ch’eng. She was a widow and had one son who 
was her sole support. One day he went into the 
forest to chop wood and was eaten by a tiger. 
The old woman prepared to commit suicide for 
how could she live with no one to bring her food 
or to care for her? However, in thinking the 
matter over, she determined to go to the magistrate 
instead. Weeping and lamenting she told him 
her sad plight and begged him to have the tiger 
arrested. 

“ ‘Ha-ha,’ laughed the magistrate, ‘who ever 
heard of bringing a tiger to the Yamen ! ’ The old 
woman continued her lamentations and hopping 
up and down before the magistrate, besought him 
to do as she asked.” 

A-lu-te imitated the shrill cries and lamenta- 
tions of the old woman and jumped up and down 
in so ludicrous a manner that the Empress Dow- 
ager was highly entertained. 

“The magistrate, disliking so much noise and 
clamour, and in order to be rid of her, pretended 
to accede to her request. But the old woman 
sank on her knees and refused to move until the 
warrant of arrest was issued. Finally the war- 
rant was duly drawn up and the magistrate asked 
his police officers which one would serve it. 
Among the lictors was a certain Li-h6ng. Ho 


Failure 


121 


had spent the previous night carousing in a tavern 
and his head was heavy and his mind not clear. 
The others knowing this pushed him forward 
and he was made to consent. Now when Li 
recovered from the effects of his carousal and 
discovered what he had promised, he was horri- 
fied. But he quickly consoled himself with the 
thought that the magistrate would not compel 
him to serve such a silly summons. After two 
days the magistrate, who had again been plagued 
by the old woman, sent for him, had him flogged 
for his dilatoriness and ordered him to go forth 
immediately and serve the summons. With fear- 
ful heart and trembling greatly Li went into the 
forest to seek the tiger. But he did not find him. 
He then went to the temple of a local divinity 
whose shrine lay to the east of the city. He knelt 
before the image and prayed for help. As he 
rose to leave the temple, a tiger entered the door. 
Li-heng was terribly frightened; he expected to 
be eaten. But the beast remained motionless, 
his head bowed to the ground. Seeing him so 
quiet, Li gathered courage and said: 

“ ‘Did you kill the old woman’s son?’ 

“The creature raised his head and roared ad- 
mission of his guilt.” 

Here A-lu-te tried to imitate a tiger’s roar and 
succeeded in making a sound not unlike an angry 
kitten, which caused the Empress Dowager to 
laugh consumedly. 

A-lu-te continued her narrative. 


122 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“ 'As you have admitted your guilt,’ said Li- 
heng, *1 must place the chain around your neck 
and take you to the office of the magistrate. ’ This 
he proceeded to do. The magistrate being in- 
formed of his arrival, sent for the old woman. 
Then he questioned the tiger: ‘Did you kill the 
son of this old woman?’ he asked. The animal 
bowed his head. 

“ ‘Murder is a capital offence,’ said the magis- 
trate, ‘and in your case an unusually heinous 
one, for this old woman was entirely dependent 
on her son. But I will let you go free on condition 
that you support her for the remainder of her 
natural life.’ Again the tiger bowed his head 
humbly. The chains were removed and he trotted 
off. The old woman, however, was very indignant 
because he was not put to death; ‘great folks, may 
set the town in a blaze; common folks mustn’t 
even light a lantern,’ she muttered angrily as 
she hobbled off. But the next morning she found 
a dead deer lying before the door of her cottage. 
She sold the hide and venison and supplied her 
needs with the money she obtained. Every 
morning the tiger brought venison to the cottage 
and frequently other choice food. The old woman 
waxed rich, for the tiger supported her better 
than her son had been able to do. He often came 
and lay under the eaves of the cottage, and the 
old woman would pat and caress him, for she had 
become fond of the beast. When she finally died 
the tiger came to the cottage door, pushed it open 


Failure 


123 


with his paw, and howled forth his grief. He 
appeared again at the grave, leaping in among 
the mourners, and roared like thunder.” 

A-lu-te illustrated the roaring with much vigor. 
The Empress Dowager shook with laughter: 
“Excellent, excellent!” she cried. “I have heard 
the late Emperor’s sleeve-dog make quite as fierce 
a noise! What became of Sir Tiger?” 

“Having thus loudly proclaimed his sorrow at 
the old woman’s death, he walked away weeping 
and was never seen again. The people of Chao- 
Ch’eng however erected a shrine outside the west 
gate to commemorate his devotion.” 

The Empress Dowager was in the best of hum- 
ours when she left the pagoda boat to be carried 
in her chair to the summit of the peony-hill which 
commanded a lovely view of the palace grounds 
and the surrounding country. In a rustic summer 
house she sipped tea from a white jade cup on a 
golden saucer, presented by a kneeling eunuch, 
while a second eunuch held a gold tray containing 
blossoms of honeysuckle and orange flowers with 
which she loved to flavour her tea. By royal 
command A-lu-te was given of this special brew. 
The court ladies remained outside the summer 
house where their own eunuchs prepared tea for 
them of a quality less fine. 

“Wang-ti,” said the Empress Dowager, “I 
find pleasure in your company; you are merry 
and are not stupid. I will see whether the day 
you came to the palace is not a most auspicious 


124 


The Breath of the Dragon 


one. Have the book read,” she said turning to 
Li, ‘ ‘ and bring the answer to me here immediately. ’ * 

With an inscrutable look upon his face, the 
Chief Eunuch went to do her bidding. No sooner 
had he gone than A-lu-te, buoyed by a hope ren- 
dered overconfident because of the favourable 
impression she had made and because the “Great 
Old Buddha” did in sooth look that day like the 
“Benign Mother” her people affectionately called 
her, determined to try and obtain by frank and 
open-hearted appeal that which she had thought 
only to obtain by stratagem and fraud. She 
threw herself suddenly at the feet of the Empress 
Dowager and knocked her head repeatedly on the 
ground. 

“Tut, tut, girl, you needn’t break your head 
thanking me for the tea. Get up.” 

“Grant, Old Ancestor, the prayer of your hand- 
maiden,” said A-lu-te, her voice quivering with 
fear of failure, and hope of success. She was 
risking all at one stroke. If she failed, Fen-Sha’s 
fate was irrevocably sealed. That she was immi- 
nently endangering her own life she knew well, but 
to this she had become accustomed. Had she 
not risked her life many times over from the 
moment she set foot in the Summer Palace, and 
even earlier in Peking, where she posed as the 
niece — dead these two years or more — of the 
Lady Yin? 

“What is it you want?” asked the Empress 
Dowager with a smile. She had a charming 


Failure 


125 


smile of great sweetness. “Is it a new gown for 
the summer more handsome than any at Court 
save mine? Or jewels? For in sooth you seem 
to have none. Shall it be pearl earrings, or a 
bracelet of green jade from Khoten? Speak, 
perhaps it will pleasure me to grant your prayer.” 

A-lu-te clasped her hands in supplication. “It 
is not gowns or jewels your slave desires, it is — ” 
her voice faltered an instant, then she went 
bravely on, “it is the life of one who, innocent of 
crime, is doomed to die.” 

Tzu Hsi frowned. At this moment the Chief 
Eunuch entered, silent -footed, unobserved. When 
he saw A-lu-te on the ground in the attitude of 
one kowtowing, not in deference or gratitude, but 
as one beseeching, he stopped to listen. A look 
of intense satisfaction came into his face, as he 
heard her low-spoken words. He was a clever 
man and an exceedingly cunning one. The 
reason of the astounding temerity the girl dis- 
played that morning when she defied his authority 
to eject her from the Palace was clear to him now. 
She hoped to save the life of someone dear to her. 
Who was it? Not her father, for Li knew well 
that the brother-in-law of Lord Yin was not 
threatened with danger from the wrath of the 
Throne, nor yet any of his family. Had the girl 
a lover? Yes! That was it! What audacity to 
present herself as eligible to enter the harem of 
the Solitary One ! She herself had now given him 
the rope with which to hang her. Well, he would 


126 


The Breath of the Dragon 


use it, and quickly, and the knot around her throat 
he would tie exceeding tight. He looked at her 
with a mocking smile. 

Softly approaching the Empress Dowager he 
whispered in her ear: “It appears, Old Buddha, 
that now we have the true reason why this young 
lady so ardently desired to grace the court with 
her presence.” 

The frown on Tzu Hsi’s face deepened. She 
did not reply to the eunuch, but his words made 
the impression he desired on her mind. Her 
anger grew against this girl whose apparent hap- 
piness and gaiety had ozonized the stale atmos- 
phere of her court. Was it true that this lovely 
young creature had sought to remain in the Palace 
for reasons other than the honour and joy of be- 
ing near the Presence? Tzu Hsi’s vanity was 
wounded. Her voice was harsh when she spoke 
again: “What nonsense is this? What have you 
to do with the decrees of my law courts? If one 
of my subjects is condemned to die, be assured 
of the fact that he deserves his fate and that it ill 
becomes an ignorant girl like you to question 
the justice or plead the cause of such a one. More- 
over know that I allow no one other than officials, 
or those summoned by me for the purpose, to 
broach questions of state or law.” 

Too late A-lu-te realized her mistake. It 
seemed to her that a grave had opened at her 
feet, a grave of her own digging, into which she 
had plunged Fen-Sha and into which she herself 


Failure 


127 


was falling. Again the Empress Dowager spoke. 
Her voice was, if possible, more imperious, more 
harsh than before. 

“Who is this man for whose life you have the 
presumption to plead?” 

There are some natures who from an overpower- 
ing consciousness that their opponent is more 
powerful, stronger than they, become crushed, 
spiritless, frightened. A-lu-te’s nature was not 
one of these. Love made her strong. Her mind 
worked with lightning rapidity. Only quick 
thought, ready wit could save her now. 

“Old Ancestor, it is not a man your slave pleads 
for — it is her dog.” 

The Empress Dowager stared a moment in 
blank amazement — then broke into a silvery peal 
of laughter. “Your dog!” she cried. “Well, 
and why must your dog die? Has he snapped at 
the official legs of one of my magistrates? Is that 
it?” 

“No, your Majesty. It is that he is far from 
his mistress, your handmaiden, and will die 
sorrowing for her.” 

“That is not the habit of animals, whether man 
or dog,” replied Tzu Hsi emphatically. “In the 
Palace I permit only my own special breed of 
dogs. I will give you Cha’s brother; his hair is 
not as long and silky as Cha’s, but for all that he 
is a handsome creature.” 

A-lu-te drew a deep breath. For the moment 
at least, the danger was past. She kowtowed 


128 


The Breath of the Dragon 


again, this time to express gratitude for the gift 
she was to receive. Then she rose staggering to 
her feet. Her escape had been narrow; the strain 
of it left her weak. She was conscious that the 
Chief Eunuch was watching her closely. She felt 
instinctively that he at least had not been deceived 
by her answer. 

A breeze had sprung up. The blossoms on the 
mimosa trees moved gently to and fro like dainty 
pink birds swaying on the branches. Far below, 
silvery ripples ruffled the smooth surface of the 
lake, the lotus-flowers nodded their fragrant little 
heads. 

“How beautiful it is,” sighed the Empress 
Dowager. “I have often wondered which hour 
in the twenty-four nature is her loveliest. I have 
watched her in all of them; in the early morning, 
at midday, in the long dreamy afternoons, in the 
evenings, and in the wonderful hours of the starry 
night, and never, never can I decide when her 
beauty is supreme.” 

Suddenly she remembered the commission she 
had given the Chief Eunuch. 

“What says the book?” she asked. 

“What your slave read is best said to your 
Majesty’s ear alone,” he replied significantly. 
She turned to A-lu-te, “You can join the other 
ladies. Tell them to note the beauties of nature 
and cease discussing their clothes, or tea-house 
gossip brought by eunuchs to the Palace.” 

A-lu-te withdrew. Her heart was heavy with ' 


Failure 


129 


foreboding. She feared the Chief Eunuch at 
that moment more than she had feared the Em- 
press Dowager’s frown. 

When she had gone, Tzu Hsi said sharply: 
“Out with it — what said the book?” 

“Old Buddha, the news is bad. The seventh 
of this moon — which is the day she came to the 
Palace — trouble begins for you.” 

Clever woman though she was, Tzu Hsi was 
grossly superstitious. Belief in omens, in pro- 
phecies was deep-rooted in her character and 
played an incredibly important part in forming 
her opinions, in regulating the actions of her public 
and private life. She was in fact as grossly super- 
stitious as the most ignorant coolie in the Empire, 
in spite of her undoubted intelligence, her pro- 
found acquaintance with Chinese Classics and 
Histories. She seldom questioned the integrity 
of signs and omens, and she habitually consulted 
her book not only for lucky days, but for propitious 
hours in the day. 

The Chief Eunuch’s report both amazed and 
troubled her. She rose abruptly. “My chair,” 
she commanded. 

This time A-lu-te was not invited into the 
royal barge. The girl’s anxiety and fear in- 
creased momentarily. What had the Chief Eu- 
nuch told the Empress Dowager? Perhaps he had 
discovered her identity! But she did not enter- 
tain the thought long, for she was well aware that 
the Great Old Buddha’s rage would have fallen 


9 


130 The Breath of the Dragon 

upon her immediately. The court ladies, quick 
to note the slightest change in the royal counte- 
nance, thought they saw A-lu-te’s star rapidly 
descending. They moved away from her, gather- 
ing in small groups to whisper and titter, while 
she sat apart a prey to anxious thoughts and con- 
jectures. She was not entirely alone however. 
Lady Chou-Chau remained beside her. When 
they landed, A-lu-te hoped ardently that she 
would be summoned to approach the Empress 
Dowager again, to entertain her with song and 
story, or lively conversation. 

But no summons came, and she was allowed to 
follow unnoticed in the rear of the procession. 
Later in the day she accompanied the Court to 
the theatre and remained long hours scarcely 
seeing or hearing the eunuch actors who were per- 
forming one of the numerous plays which the 
Empress Dowager amused herself writing in 
leisure hours. 

That evening when she returned to her room, 
she found a small fluffy black and white object 
curled up on a chair. It was Cha’s brother, the 
gift of the Empress Dowager. The little creature 
stuck out its soft moist tongue and gently licked 
her hand. A-lu-te felt comforted, for she could 
not but think that had the Empress Dowager been 
angry the dog would not have been sent to her. 
She felt tired yet had no thought of sleep. She 
sank on her knees and bowing her head to the 
floor began to pray. 


Failure 


131 

“Oh you, you nameless One, you God of the 
foreigners, help me, A-lu-te; for Buddha hears me 
not. With bent body, with lowered eyes, humbly, 
humbly I bring my prayers to you. I will burn 
incense and candles in your temples at this very 
hour, every month of every year I live, if you listen 
to me now. Save Fen-Sha, condemned to die 
the lingering death. O you God of the foreigners, 
I kowtow to you. I promise sacrifices to you, 
wine, cakes, aye, even sheep and bullock, rever- 
ently, reverently I promise. Save Fen-Sha, save 
Fen-Sha, save Fen-Sha !” 

The night was far spent and still A-lu-te offered 
up her frenzied prayers, bowing to the ground 
unceasingly, calling on the God of the foreigner. 
An hour before dawn, she crept exhausted to her 
K’ang. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE DEATH SENTENCE 

It was four when S’ang roused her. '‘At the 
hour of the tiger you must be in attendance on Lao 
Fo Yeh. It is time to make ready ; I have brought 
tea,” and he placed a tray on a lacquer table. 

A-lu-te drank the tea, then made her toilet. 
A fresh coating of paint disguised the pallor of her 
skin and the dark hollows beneath her tired eyes. 

“God give you a good day,” said S’ang, as she 
left the pavilion. 

The words produced a certain comforting im- 
pression on her. She found the court ladies 
already assembled on the marble-paved veranda 
of the imperial pavilion. The Empress Dowager 
was still sleeping. The court ladies had few duties 
they disliked more than waking the Old Buddha. 
It was with something of malicious satisfaction 
that they informed A-lu-te she had been assigned 
to perform this disagreeable task. 

She entered the bedroom. Tzu Hsi was lying 
with her face turned to the wall. 

“Old Ancestor,” said A-lu-te, “it is the hour of 
the hare.” 


132 


The Death Sentence 


133 


No sound came from the bed to indicate that 
she had been heard. A-lut-e raised her voice: 
“Old Ancestor, it is the hour of the hare.’ 5 Still 
no reply. Again A-lu-te spoke and louder: “Old 
Ancestor, it is ” 

“Be quiet. Go away. How many times do 
you intend to repeat the same thing? You are 
destitute of originality and have no sense.” 

The Empress Dowager made this speech without 
moving, 

“Pull in your head, or stick it out, off it must 
come,” murmured A-lu-te demurely. It was a 
popular Chinese proverb, meaning that when you 
are summoned before one in authority, whether 
you are guilty or innocent of wrongdoing, the 
result will be equally disastrous for you. The 
Empress Dowager turned abruptly: “Humph, 
it’s you, is it ! ” she said. ‘ ‘ I might have known as 
much. So you think it is a difficult task to wake 
me and please me at the same time? Well, I 
won’t take your head off this morning, it’s too 
pretty.” 

She was wide awake now. The more she saw 
of A-lu-te, the more irresistibly she felt attracted 
towards her. She was prepared for once to believe 
the book mistaken. Yesterday she had ordered 
the horoscope drawn of the maiden Wang-ti, and 
there had been nothing to indicate that the star 
of Wang-ti came in any way in conjunction with 
the star of the Benign Mother. She remembered 
this with satisfaction as she sat up in bed and ate 


134 


The Breath of the Dragon 


the lotus-root porridge a slave girl brought her. 
Then she proceeded to the serious business of her 
toilet. When the Empress Dowager awakened 
in a good humour, the entire Court was happy. 
Especially was this true of those whose duty com- 
pelled attendance in the imperial bedchamber, 
for there were mornings when it was impossible to 
please Tzu Hsi, mornings when the least careless- 
ness, negligence, or inadvertencies were punished 
with severity, and when even the death penalty 
was inflicted on the offender. This had been the 
fate of a wretched eunuch who, new to his task, 
had, while making the Empress Dowager’s coiffure, 
combed out two or three hairs, and failed to hide 
them up his sleeve, as his more strategic prede- 
cessor had invariably done. He was beaten to 
death by the savage order of the Chief Eunuch to 
whom the Empress Dowager complained that the 
fellow was wilfully awkward and had pulled out 
her tresses. 

But when Tzu Hsi felt amiable, she was the 
most gentle of mistresses, the most charming of 
companions. Although she possessed an absolute 
lack of pity, or sympathy, yet, woman that she 
was, she had great need of tenderness, and such 
was her magnetism that she found this tenderness 
wherever she chose to seek it. She was fully 
cognizant of this fact and often declared that she 
could when she chose be like the golden orchid, 
love-exciting. On this particular morning she 
was amiable and gracious to everyone. She talked 


The Death Sentence 


135 


gaily, while the amahs fastened the wide silk pan- 
taloons at her ankles with rose-coloured ribbons, 
and slipped over the rose-silk shirt a short morning 
gown of soft crepe embroidered with bamboo 
leaves. 

“Wang-ti,” she said, “you may attend me 
when I give audience this morning to the Senior 
Secretary of the Hing Pu” (the Board of Punish- 
ment). “I want you to see what a man looks like 
who possesses the miraculous faculty of obeying 
my orders with exactness and promptitude. When 
our official business is transacted, I will converse 
with him on the Classics that you may taste the 
flavour of his intelligence. He is not like some 
men I know who think to look wise by the simple 
process of rubbing their noses and who imagine 
they hoodwink me into believing them clever.” 

She was dusting her face with scented powder, 
having first washed it and sprayed it with a lotion 
of honey and white jasmine. Her complexion 
was clear, smooth, and soft as that of a child. 
A-lu-te stood beside her watching her. 

“How beautiful your Majesty is!” exclaimed 
the girl impulsively. Tzu Hsi, who loved compli- 
ments when they were given spontaneously and 
detested them when they were not, looked pleased. 

“Am I? Well, that is as it should be. Every 
woman, whether young or old should make herself 
beautiful. It is not a question of features, but 
of attention to the details of her toilet, and to the 
cultivation of gracious manners and the desire to 


136 The Breath of the Dragon 


please for the sake of pleasing. This is the recipe 
I have followed myself and have given to all the 
ladies at Court. Those who have sense profit by 
it, but the majority are too stupid to do so.” 

She changed her short morning gown for an 
elaborate garment of yellow silk gauze embroidered 
with peonies and precious stones. Then she went 
to the Throne Room and sat behind a magnificent 
teakwood screen inlaid with lapis-lazuli. The 
Senior Secretary of the King Pu was announced. 
On entering the room, the Senior Secretary, who 
was an old man, performed the ceremony of the 
Kwei-Kiu-Kao, that is thrice kneeling, and nine 
times bowing the head to the ground. He ad- 
vanced on his knees (he had taken the precaution 
of heavily padding them) to the first row of cushions 
on the marble floor and waited for the Empress 
Dowager to speak. 

“When did you return to Peking?” she asked 
from behind the suspended curtain. 

“Late yesterday afternoon.” 

“Have you entirely recovered from the malady 
in your left knee?” 

“Not entirely, it still causes me pain.” 

“Does that posture increase your pain?” 

“Yes, it increases it.” 

“Have all the members of the Kao-lao-hui 
club been arrested?” 

“Not all, four made their escape.” 

“That is bad. They must be found and dealt 
with summarily. All such organizations must be 


The Death Sentence 


'137 


strangled in their inceptions before they can do 
harm. Their principles are pernicious and con- 
trary to Chinese law. Did you see the man Fen- 
Sha, the organizer of these clubs?” 

“Yes. The magistrate in Tientsin had him 
brought before me. The villain showed no signs 
of repentance. He had the temerity to say he had 
done no wrong, that his arrest was unjustifiable, 
and that the time was not far distant when every 
man in China would think as he did. ” 

“ He is an arch-traitor. He spends his life pro- 
moting agitation, sowing seeds of dissension over 
all the land. You know, do you not, that he was 
captured on the banks of the Pei-ho where he was 
disguised as a travelling tinker — talking to the 
villagers of liberty?” 

“Yes, I know that.” 

“What means this miserable organizer of rebel- 
lion by ‘liberty’? Does a dutiful son desire to 
sever the bonds that bind him to his father, or a 
good wife to refuse obedience to her husband and 
mother-in-law? The people are the children of 
their sovereign who is their father and their 
mother, and who knows what is good and what is 
bad for them. Did this Fen-Sha admit he insti- 
gated Tsing to memorialize the Throne, denounc- 
ing in unseemly language my loyal servant and 
Chief Eunuch?” 

“Yes, he admitted it. But he denied that he 
was the author of those scurrilous attacks on your 
Majesty printed on placards and posted on the 


138 The Breath of the Dragon 


city walls of the south. But the magistrate is of 
the opinion that he wrote them.” 

“What said these placards?” 

“Most illustrious Queen, Buddha pronounced 
these words: ‘The wicked man who persecutes 
the good man is like a madman who throwing back 
his head spits against heaven ; his spittle, incapable 
of sullying heaven, merely falls back upon him- 
self.’” 

“I know what Buddha has said quite as well as 
you. You need not waste your breath and my 
time in telling me. What said the placards?” 

“The author of the placards compared the life 
of her sacred Majesty to the lives of Kieh and 
Mi-h’e of the Hia dynasty.” 

These rulers are notorious in Chinese annals 
for cruelty and licentiousness. 

‘ ‘ Ha ! He did that ? ” Tzu Hsi’s voice trembled 
with rage. “What depths of unthinkable auda- 
city! The madman’s tongue shall be tom from 
its root for such unbridled license. What else 
said he?” 

“That like Chau-sin her Majesty w r ould not 
hesitate to command the heart of a fearless, con- 
scientious censor plucked out and brought to her, 
to see wherein it differed from the cowardly 
sycophants who habitually court her favour.” 

Tzu Hsi’s passion was frightful to witness; it 
was like a tempestuous whirlwind through which 
her eyes gleamed like bolts of lightning. Her 
voice rose to a shrill ear-splitting shriek. “When 


The Death Sentence 


139 

is the execution of this dog Fen-Sha ordered to 
take place?” 

“On the fifteenth of this moon, a week from 
yesterday.” 

“Let it be accomplished immediately. You 
are to hasten to Tientsin. The hour of your 
arrival you are to present my decree and you are 
to superintend his death yourself. I order the 
slicing process to be lingeringly prolonged; his 
ankles to be crushed in a vice, his thigh-bones 
broken, his eyelids cut off and clipped into small 
fragments, and I forbid the transmigration of his 
soul, which is to remain in a state of suspended 
animation for all time.” 

She wrote the fatal decree with vermilion ink 
on flowered paper. 

“My seal!” she, commanded. The Chief Eu- 
nuch opened a beautiful chased gold box wherein 
lay the Empress Dowager’s seal of state. The 
document was stamped and the eunuch received 
it kneeling. He in turn handed it to the Senior 
Secretary, who kowtowed when he took it. 

“You are dismissed. Hasten,” said Tzu Hsi. 

Three times the Senior Secretary essayed to 
rise from his knees, but the pain overpowered 
him and three times he sank down again. 

“Let eunuchs assist him,” said the Empress 
Dowager. 

The old man was raised and leaning heavily 
on the arms of the eunuchs he limped from the 
Throne Room. Outside the eunuchs heard him 


140 


The Breath of the Dragon 


murmur, “The leaves of my life-tree are falling 
rapidly — this journey to Tientsin will shake the 
last remaining ones down. But they will not fall 
till I have fulfilled her Majesty’s commands.” 

A-lu-te had listened to this audience with heart 
palpitating so loudly, she thought all must hear 
it throb. Beneath the paint on her face she had 
grown white as the marble floor she stood upon. 
A frenzy of despair seized her. She told herself 
that it was impossible now to save Fen-Sha. The 
Senior Secretary would start for Tientsin that 
very day. Had the Great Old Ancestor not told 
her he possessed the miraculous faculty of execut- 
ing her orders promptly and with exactitude? Be- 
cause he was an old man, he would no doubt take 
the water road to Tientsin, for it was easier 
though longer than the land road. Yet even so, 
with favourable conditions the boats could make 
the journey down the river in two days. Fen- 
Sha was doomed. She could not think clearly 
because of the horror which oppressed her. Her 
knees shook; she trembled as with a sickness. She 
did not know that the Chief Eunuch, suddenly 
aware of her agitation, was whispering to the Em- 
press Dowager, till the latter turned and stared 
at her. With a supreme effort she sought to con- 
trol her trembling. The effort was vain ; her teeth 
chattered in her head. 

“What ails you?” asked the Empress Dowager. 

Her rage, fierce and deadly while it lasted, was 
already spent. 


The Death Sentence 


141 

“A sickness has come upon me,” replied A-lu-te 
in a voice scarcely audible. 

“A sickness!” exclaimed the Empress Dowager, 
a note of genuine anxiety in her tones. “You 
remember the horoscope, Li? She is delicate. 
We must watch carefully over her lest — ” She 
did not finish the sentence but looked significantly 
at the Chief Eunuch. He nodded. The maiden 
Wang-ti’s horoscope had foretold her early 
death; the exact reading had been: “Her destiny 
not long lived; her sands soon exhausted.” 

Tzu Hsi was determined to do all within her 
power to prolong the life of this girl who attracted 
her so strongly. 1 ‘ Let the doctors be summoned, ’ ’ 
she ordered. 

In a few minutes the court physicians appeared. 
Like the scholars in the Palace, they too were eu- 
nuchs. Told by the Empress Dowager to discover 
and cure the particular sickness which had seized 
upon A-lu-te, they examined her tongue and felt 
the pulse of each wrist. By the beating of the 
pulse of the left wrist, the state of the heart was 
determined, while the right pulse indicated the 
condition of the liver and lungs. They announced 
their opinion that the noble malady was an affec- 
tion of the heart and that to restore equilibrium 
and harmony to the system the patient must 
swallow pills of powdered staghorn which they 
would prepare and that in the meantime she must 
sleep three consecutive hours. 

The Empress Dowager excused A-lu-te from 


142 


The Breath of the Dragon 


further attendance upon her that morning and 
cautioned her to obey the physicians by sleeping 
the prescribed number of hours. 

In the seclusion and quiet of her room A-lu-te 
strove with all her force to compel her mind to 
think calmly and to formulate some plan by which 
she could still save Fen-Sha. But for a long time 
she could not quiet herself. She pressed her hands 
to her temples, repeating despairingly: “Too late, 
too late, I cannot save him now.” Drops of sweat 
covered her forehead. She pictured Fen-Sha 
dragged from his prison to the place of execution, 
she saw his eyelids cut off and with awful slowness 
his body hacked into unrecognizable pieces. The 
scene was horribly vivid. A black mist covered 
her eyes ; she felt faint and stretched out her hand 
to steady herself. Her fingers came in contact 
with the book S’ang had given her — the book of 
rites of the foreigners which they called the Bible. 
Suddenly she recalled the words S’ang had read 
to her: “Ask and ye shall receive.” Her faint- 
ness left her; she became transported with rage. 
She seized the Bible and flung it on the floor and 
stamped upon it. The God of the foreigners had 
lied to her. She had believed in him and he had 
deceived her. He was worse than Buddha, a 
thousand, a million times worse. Buddha gave 
no promises and if he had not helped her to rescue 
Fen-Sha and had turned a deaf ear to her pleading, 
he at least had not mocked her with false hopes. 
She stooped, picked up the Bible, and flung it with 


The Death Sentence 


143 


all her force the length of the room. It fell behind 
the teakwood teapoy. Her face was distorted 
with passion. An outside door of the pavilion 
opened; footsteps approached the room. A-lu-te 
heard nothing, saw nothing, the frenzy of her 
rage was strong upon her. The curtains were 
softly drawn aside and the ugly head of the Chief 
Eunuch appeared in the opening. He took one 
step into the room, and stopped; the expression 
of amazement on his face was swiftly followed by 
one of comprehension and of fear. 

A-lu-te, rage-smitten, oblivious of everything 
but her own anger, was pacing the room like a 
tigress. So had the Old Buddha looked that very 
morning, so did she look every time rage took 
possession of her. The resemblance was striking, 
unmistakable, why had he not seen it before? 
He knew now why his instinct had warned him 
not to admit this girl into the Palace! Softly he 
dropped the curtains and with stealthy step left 
the pavilion. He did not choose that she should 
know he had been there. He shut himself up in 
his own handsome apartments. 

He felt the need of thinking over many things. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE PUPPET EMPEROR APPEARS 

The Emperor Kuang Hsu left his capital to go 
to the Summer Palace. He was late. If his 
august aunt, the Empress Dowager, chanced to 
notice this fact, his weekly visit of subjugation — 
for it was nothing less — would be made more un- 
pleasant for him than usual. Nominally he had 
now been ruler of China for a year. He held 
audiences every morning; the ministers of state 
received his commands and obeyed them too — 
if they did not conflict with those of the Empress 
Dowager; he wrote decrees which were published 
— after the Empress Dowager had passed upon 
them ; he made officials, and the Empress Dowager 
unmade them when the mood seized her. He 
was a puppet ruler, and he knew it. The thought 
rankled so steadily within him it became at times 
like the fierce stinging of wasps and caused those 
violent outbursts of temper which his imperial 
aunt pretended so greatly to deprecate. Yet she 
herself possessed more than her full share of the 
Yehonole family temper. Moreover her parox- 
ysms of anger invariably led to crime, while his 
144 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 145 

harmed no one but himself. But she knew how 
to cast a mantel of decent fiction over her darkest 
deeds and the people gladly shut their eyes and 
swallowed the tale. They did not believe she 
had encouraged her own son in vicious living to 
undermine his health in order that she might con- 
tinue to rule in his stead ; nor that she had caused 
the death of his pregnant wife. When rumours 
reached them of her fierce and savage temper, 
they merely said: ‘‘Yes, the Benign Mother is apt 
at times to be a little choleric; she has her weak- 
nesses, being human, but her heart is good.” 
Kuang Hsu knew well what they said of him, their 
puppet Emperor. Did they not believe the care- 
fully spread reports of Tzu Hsi’s eunuchs that 
his mind was as feeble as his body? Some day 
they would know the truth; some day he would 
rule his Empire in reality. But the time was not 
yet come when he could break the fetters which 
bound him to the Summer Palace. He was sur- 
rounded by the “rats and foxes” which infested 
the Yellow City — the very walls of his private 
palace were honeycombed with them — all crea- 
tures of his aunt and her horrid henchman, Li. 
Even his consort the young Empress acted as a 
spy upon him, reporting to the Empress Dowager 
every word and look he gave in her presence. He 
would like to relegate her to the “cold palace” 
where the wives of former emperors were im- 
prisoned when their conduct merited punishment, 
or they had ceased to please. How ugly she was, 

to 


146 The Breath of the Dragon 


with her stooped shoulders and narrow chest and 
her black teeth. It was a relief to turn from her 
to the smiling countenances of some of his con- 
cubines, even though their mother-wit was less 
than mediocre. 

As Kuang Hsu knelt outwardly humbly before 
the inner gate of the Summer Palace that morning, 
his whole soul was in revolt. The surging passion in 
his veins made him breathe hard. He felt that his 
presence there, awaiting the pleasure of the Chief 
Eunuch to admit him, was an indignity too great 
to be borne. Last week Li had kept him kneeling 
at the gate one half hour before he announced his 
presence to the Empress Dowager. Must he 
again submit to such treatment from this vile, 
base-born creature? It was good to remember 
that he once had this dog of a eunuch flogged. 
That was long ago. Li had failed publicly in 
respect to him and he had ordered his eunuchs to 
seize him, strip him, and apply the big bamboo to 
his bare back till his flesh was raw. The fellow 
had howled with pain. 

The young man smiled grimly as he recalled 
the scene. But since the flogging the Chief Eunuch 
had had his revenge many times over. He it was 
who a few days later had induced the Empress 
Dowager to order the decapitation of the eunuchs 
who had administered the beating, on accusation 
of stealing bolts of tribute silk from the palace 
warehouse. The charge was true, of course, for 
what eunuch did not take this “squeeze”? Yet 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 147 

the Emperor had been powerless to save them and 
they had been replaced by the Chief Eunuch’s 
own creatures. Every day his influence with the 
Empress Dowager grew. He had even induced 
her recently to disgrace an honest, brave official, 
and compel him to commit suicide, because he had 
memorialized the Throne concerning Li’s iniqui- 
ties. In all the history of the Empire never had 
eunuchs attained such power, displayed such 
barefaced effrontery as now — no, not even under 
the Ming dynasty, which owed its downfall and 
complete degeneracy to these sexless court menials. 
The wise K’ang Hsi had curtailed their privileges. 
The excellent rules of his reign were long main- 
tained and these bom sweepers of floors were for 
nearly two hundred years rendered innocuous. 
But gradually the evil grew again till now it had 
become monstrous. Well, he, the Emperor Kuang 
Hsu, would chase this vile brood of scorpions from 
the Palace soon. 

Such were Kuang Hsii’s thoughts as he knelt. 
A firm look appeared on his handsome young 
face and his delicate jaws closed with something 
like a snap. He had been kneeling ten minutes 
and still no one came to admit him. He rose 
abruptly and turning to his attendants, said; 
“Stay here. When the Chief Eunuch arrives, 
inform me. I shall be yonder.” He indicated 
a court on the left, adjoining the one he was in. 
The eunuchs were filled with amazement. Such 
a proceeding was without precedence; it was an 


148 The Breath of the Dragon 


unheard-of departure from etiquette. Yet among 
his servants were a few who, longing to see their 
lord the real master in the Empire, felt a keen 
satisfaction at his action; they pictured with 
unction the Chief Eunuch’s immense surprise 
when he came to admit the Emperor and discov- 
ered his absence. They watched the slight, elegant 
figure of their young sovereign disappear in the 
adjoining court. Kuang Hsu’s knees were sore 
and his back ached. He gnawed his lip with 
vexation that he should have so little strength to 
bear physical fatigue. 

The court he entered was a large one and made 
by China’s most expert landscape gardeners to 
represent, in miniature, mountains, valleys, and 
grass-grown plains. Red bridges spanned small 
streams and here and there were scattered memorial 
stones with verses cut upon them from the Book 
of Odes , or original lines from the poetic pens of 
former emperors. 

Lost in gloomy thought Kuang Hsu wandered 
on till he came to a gate in the wall surrounding 
another court. The gate was small and evidently 
intended for the use of gardeners and workmen. 
It was partially ajar. The young man pushed it 
open with his foot and entered a garden which 
when a boy had been a favourite lounging place 
of his. Between two great cypress trees, near a 
lotus pond, he saw the figure of a woman. She was 
young and dressed in court costume. With quick 
steps she was pacing back and forth on the banks' 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 149 


of the pond. Now and again she stopped, wrung 
her hands wildly, and resumed her agitated walk. 
The Emperor approached her unobserved. He 
could hear her low dry sobs, the swift catching of 
her breath as if she were suffering sharp physical 
pain. 

“Who are you?” he asked. 

A-lu-te — for it was she — started violently at the 
sound of a voice when she had supposed herself 
alone. “One forsaken of the gods,” she said. 
“Who are you?” 

“The Solitary One!” The answer was given in 
a voice of infinite sadness. 

“The Emperor!” exclaimed A-lu-te, and threw 
herself on the ground making obeisance. 

“You need not do that!” he said gently. “I 
have not seen you before. How long have you 
been in the Palace.” 

“Two days.” 

“Then you are one of the Manchu maidens 
whom the Empress Dowager selects for me. Are 
you crying because you do not want to be a woman 
in my palace?” 

“No,” replied A-lu-te, “that is not why I am 
crying, although I do not want to be a woman 
in your palace.” 

“Were you forced to come?” he continued his 
questions, looking at her gravely from under the 
drooping lids of his large brown eyes. 

“No.” 

“You came of your own volition, then?” 


The Breath of the Dragon 


150 

“Yes.” 

“Yet you did not want to come? Explain 
yourself,” he commanded quietly. 

For a brief instant A-lu-te let her gaze rest on 
the handsome high-bred face, on the features cut 
as from a cameo, the broad intellectual brow, the 
sad kindly eye. Apparently she was satisfied with 
what she saw for she exclaimed with sudden, low 
vehemence: “Your Majesty, help, oh, help me!” 

“Said the sun-baked paddy-field to the bone- 
dry stream,” murmured Kuang Hsu with a 
mocking smile. “Come we will sit on yonder 
marble bench in the shade of the mimosa trees. 
So — that is better. What is your name?” 

“A-lu-te”; the name burst from her impulsively, 
unguardedly. 

“An ill-omened name. So was the Emperor 
Fung-Chih’s widow called — she who was poisoned 
being pregnant. That is why I am now Emperor,” 
he remarked calmly. 

“Poisoned!” exclaimed A-lu-te. “Oh, your 
Majesty, is it true indeed!” 

“As true as that some day the same fate awaits 
me.” 

There was no emotion in his voice; he might 
have been predicting a change in the weather, 
f “Who would dare?” asked A-lu-te, as she un- 
consciously drew nearer the young Emperor. 

He smiled again that same little mocking smile 
but made no answer. Somehow A-lu-te under- 
stood. 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 151 


“Oh!” she exclaimed passionately, “she is a 
wicked woman.” 

“Give scope to your tongue concerning your- 
self,” commanded the Emperor. 

There was that in the young man’s face and 
manner which inspired confidence. A-lu-te in- 
stinctively felt that even if he did not help her, 
he would at least not betray her. She cast pru- 
dence to the winds and asked abruptly: “Your 
Majesty has heard of the reformer Fen-Sha?” 

* ‘ I have heard of him. He is accused of casting 
aspersions on the character of the Empress Dow- 
ager.” 

“Those are base lies, told by his enemies to 
accomplish his death. Oh, your Majesty, he is 
a good man, a brave man, a scholar of high repute; 
the only crime he has been guilty of is the crime 
of loving too well his country.” 

* 4 So have I thought, ’ ’ murmured Kuang Hsu, and 
aloud he asked : ‘ 4 What interest have you in him ? ’ ’ 

“I am his betrothed,” she answered with bowed 
head. 

Kuang Hsu looked at her with sudden lively 
interest. 

“Ah! that then is the reason of your coming to 
the Palace? You thought to obtain his pardon? 
You thought to save his life?” 

“Yes,” admitted A-lu-te in a low voice. She 
slipped to the ground on her knees: “Oh, save 
him, save him, your Majesty!” she cried. 

“You are asking the impossible. He whom the 


15 * 


The Breath of the Dragon 


Empress Dowager condemns to die is beyond 
saving by the gods themselves.” 

“By the gods, perhaps. But you are the Em- 
peror. You need but write a line and Fen-Sha 
will be released from prison.” 

“A dozen lines from me will not serve to coun- 
termand one order from the Empress Dowager. 
No, not if I wrote in vermilion ink, sealed the 
papers with my private seal, and dispatched them 
in all haste with an arrow messenger. Such is the 
power of the Son of Heaven on his throne!” 

Into his arrogant young face came a look of 
intense bitterness. For a moment he appeared 
to have forgotten the sobbing girl at his feet. 
Then his eyes rested on her again. 

“Rise,” he said kindly, “and listen. I would 
like this man Fen-Sha to live ; China needs all the 
educated, progressive, thinking young men she 
has. But I can do nothing for him. He is doomed 
to die. Not even a second decree written by the 
Empress Dowager herself can save him, unless 
she affix to it her private seal by which alone she 
can annul her previous commands.” 

Slowly A-lu-te rose to her feet. A sudden 
thought, like a flash of lightning, illuminated the 
darkness of her brain. 

“Where does she keep this seal?” she asked 

The Emperor shot a penetrating look at her, 
and answered with studied carelessness: “The seal 
is in a jade ring which never leaves the forefinger 
of her right hand, day or night.” 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 153 

For a moment a deep silence reigned between 
them. 

“Wan Sway Yeh” (Lord of Ten Thousand 
Years), said A-lu-te solemnly, “if Fen-Sha is 
saved, he will devote his life to your service, 
he will be your slave, your faithful dog.” 

“I have told you I cannot help him.” 

There was something significant in A-lu-te’s 
smile, as he made this declaration. 

“You mean you would dare — ” he did not 
complete the sentence but added abruptly: “You 
are preparing your own death.” 

“It may be so,” she answered quietly. 

“Do you care as much as that for him?” he 
asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Even if you should succeed — and nothing is 
more improbable — you can never see him again. 
You belong to the Palace.” 

“It is true. But the knowledge that he lives 
will be my consolation and in time my happiness.” 

The Emperor shook his head incredulously. 
“You mistake yourself. Women are not made 
that way. The philosopher Chawng-tze once 
observed a widow who had been an exemplary and 
devoted wife, fanning the earth over her husband’s 
grave. He inquired of her the reason for such 
a strange proceeding. Whereupon she told him 
that she had promised her husband on his death- 
bed not to marry before the earth of his grave was 
perfectly dry. ‘And now,’ she added, ‘as it has 


154 


The Breath of the Dragon 


occurred to me that the surface of the ground, 
which has been newly tempered, would not soon 
dry, I thought I would just fan it a little.* 

Kuang Hsii’s face had an expression of capti- 
vating mischief as he told this story. 4 ‘That 
woman was typical,” he said. A-lu-te shook her 
head. “I do not know how other women love. 
I know only how I love. If Fen-Sha dies, on that 
day I die too.” 

Again Kuang Hsu looked at her curiously. 

“Many women have loved me, but not like 
that,” he said. “It is true I care little for them. 
I would give all the women in my palace for the 
friendship of a man, young like myself, a man who 
would give me the companionship I have never 
had, the sympathy I have never known, the help 
I have never found, for the furtherance of my 
hopes, my plans for an enlightened China. I am 
alone in my hopes, alone in my strivings, alone 
in my fears. From my childhood I have had 
only women and eunuchs about me; there are 
days when I cannot bear the sight of them. I 
never see a man except in audience and even then 
he is old and senile, or past middle life, with 
his head in the S’ung dynasty and only his feet 
in the present, stultified, devoid of sense. In all 
the land here and beyond the seas, there is no 
lonelier man than I, nor one so friendless. Well 
am I named ‘The Solitary One.’ ” 

His gloomy young eyes were fixed before him 
on the ground. 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 155 


“My heart grieves for your Majesty.” There 
was sympathy in A-lu-te’s tones and face, but 
Kuang-Hsu, who looked up when she first began 
to speak, recoiled from her with a shocked and 
startled expression, as if he unexpectedly had 
encountered an object of his deepest aversion. 

“Who are you?” he demanded hoarsely. 

It was A-lu-te who now looked alarmed. 

“A-lu-te,” she murmured in frightened tones. 

“What is your ju ming” (milk name). “What 
is your father’s name? Who is your mother?” 

“My father’s name?” she faltered. “My 
mother? I do not know; I am the adopted child 
of Marquis Tsing.” 

“Lord of Ten Thousand Years, your slaves seek 
you.” 

The loud cries reached them from the adjoining 
court. 

j/‘Go, make haste. You must not be seen here,” 
exclaimed Kuang Hsu. 

He seemed ashamed of his sudden harshness, 
for he added hastily: “For a moment you re- 
minded me of one whom I have cause to greatly 
distrust and dislike ; the resemblance was imaginary, 
I no longer see it. Go.” 

A-lu-te fled swiftly along the path bordering 
the lotus-pond and slipping behind a summer- 
house at the farther end made her way unobserved 
to the terraced court of her own pavilion. 

Kuang Hsu in the meanwhile went slowly back 
to meet his anxious servants. “The Chief Eunuch 


156 The Breath of the Dragon 


has come!” they gasped, prostrating themselves; 
“your slaves have been seeking your Majesty 
everywhere!” 

He passed them without replying. When he 
reached the inner gate where he had knelt while 
his presence was announced to the Empress Dow- 
ager, he found it tightly closed again and the 
Chief Eunuch gone. The Emperor bit his lips 
in anger. He unfastened from his belt a hand- 
some, embroidered, heavily filled purse and hand- 
ing it to one of his attendants, said: “Pay your 
way in. Seek the Chief Eunuch and present him 
with this purse. Return swiftly.” 

Then he knelt again and this time waited until 
it should be the good pleasure of the most degraded 
of men to admit the Son of Heaven into his own 
domain. It was humiliating, but no other course 
was open to him. He dared not return to the 
Forbidden City without presenting himself to 
the Empress Dowager. She exacted from him 
strict compliance to those filial acts of homage 
which included kowtowing to her every fifth day 
at the Summer Palace. If he failed in these ob- 
servances her anger would know no bounds. He 
did not wish to expose himself yet to the fatal 
danger of her unbridled passions. He had work 
to do for China. And so he waited, outwardly 
calm and patient, inwardly seething with hot re- 
sentment and taunting himself with his impotence 
to defy this woman and her eunuch. Ten minutes 
passed before the gates were thrown open. The 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 157 

Chief Eunuch appeared; he kowtowed in a 
manner almost mocking. 

“The scoundrel! the dog!” said the Emperor to 
himself, as he entered the court. A little later 
he was in the private palace of his august aunt. 
He was informed that her Majesty was at dinner. 
The hour was early, but Tzu Hsi had her meals 
served whenever and wherever she pleased. On 
the present occasion it was her caprice to eat in a 
pretty pavilion overlooking the lake. On the 
table before her were arranged rows of imperial 
yellow bowls ornamented with green dragons and 
with the character designating “long life.” Eu- 
nuchs were removing with concerted movement 
golden covers from bowls, when the Emperor 
entered. 

“All joy be with you,” he said kowtowing. 

The Empress Dowager acknowledged his salu- 
tation with perfunctory indifference. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked. 

“No,” replied the young man. He hoped she 
would permit him to depart. He detested few 
things more than eating with his aunt. More- 
over, court etiquette required that he kneel during 
the entire meal and of kneeling he had already 
had more than sufficient. 

“You had better eat, anyway,” she said deli- 
cately lifting with gold chop-sticks bits of shark- 
fins from a clear soup. Tzu Hsi was something 
of a gourmand. On her table would be found 
every delicacy known to the Chinese culinary art. 


158 The Breath of the Dragon 


She herself frequently invented choice dishes 
delectable to her palate. Today she was served 
with Peking ducks which had been fed upon wild 
garlic; chickens stuffed with pine needles to lend 
them a delicate flavour; bamboo shoots with 
chopped pork; pancakes made of mushrooms and 
pork; bread fried in sugar and moulded to repre- 
sent butterflies, flowers, and dragons; many vari- 
eties of porridge; and all the fruits of the season. 

The Emperor, at her insistence, tasted one or 
two of these dishes, then made no further pretence 
of eating. 

Tzu Hsi, on the contrary, ate heartily and with 
great enjoyment. 

“I hope,” she said, hooking the jewelled butterfly 
attached to a silk embroidered napkin more se- 
curely into her collar, “I hope you and the young 
Empress have not been quarrelling again.” 

'‘No,” replied her nephew. 

He knew that she was kept informed by the 
young Empress herself of all that occurred between 
them and was quite as well aware as he that for a 
week past he had studiously avoided meeting or 
even seeing his first wife. Tzu Hsi, as was her 
custom, dropped the subject to revert to it later 
and took up another. 

“That decree you wish to sign about toleration 
for the religion of the barbarians in our Empire 
and protecting their bonzes, is not good; it can 
only do harm. You had better leave the matter 
alone for the present,” 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 159 

Kuang Hsu’s sensitive mouth suddenly became 
a straight line. For a moment he made no reply, 
then he said: “We are of the East, they are of the 
West. Is that any reason why intercourse be- 
tween us should not be honourable and harmo- 
nious?” 

“By all means let harmony exist between our- 
selves and the Western barbarians,” said Tzu 
Hsi, impatiently, “but let them cease to urge 
our subjects to forget the religion of their fore- 
fathers and worship barbarian gods from which 
no good can emanate. This discussion has grown 
old; we will talk no more about it.” 

“The religions of the West have for their ob- 
ject the inculcation of virtue, they can do no 
harm,” affirmed the Emperor, “and though our 
people be converted to these religions they con- 
tinue to be Chinese subjects and to obey our laws.” 

Tzu Hsi stared in amazement at the young man 
who dared not only to pursue a conversation she 
had commanded should cease, but even to contra- 
dict her. She could not brook opposition from 
anyone, least of all from the puppet she had placed 
upon the throne. 

“Do you remember whom you are addressing 
and to whom you owe your present position be- 
fore the nation? ” she asked bluntly. Her temper 
was rising. 

“Yes! To your Majesty I owe everything and 
shall continue to owe everything even to my life,” 
said the Emperor humbly. Tzu Hsi bent a prob- 


i6o The Breath of the Dragon 

ing look upon him as if she fain would read the 
very heart of him. 

But the delicate patrician face before her 
showed immobile as marble. 

“Do you permit me to revert to the subject?’' 
he asked with quiet persistence. 

“Speak then,” she crossly consented. 

“Confucius said: ‘A state must first smite itself 
and then others will smite it. This is illustrated 
in the passage of the Fdi Chid , When Heaven 
sends down calamities it is still possible to escape 
them. When we occasion the calamities our- 
selves it is not possible any longer to live.’” 

“To what is this display of erudition leading?” 
she asked curtly. 

“To the thought, nay more, to the conviction 
that if we do not stop the frequent murders of 
foreign bonzes — missionaries they call them — we 
will bring down upon ourselves the revengeful 
anger of the great nations.” 

“The great nations!” she cried scornfully, 
M what are they? Long ago I was told by my 
Grand Councillors that the greatest of these so- 
called great nations are the English, a barbarian 
race, dwelling on a petty island beyond our Em- 
pire, a contemptible, mannerless, seafaring people, 
possessing no thought above bartering; a people 
who when they first made their appearance in 
China, we should have exterminated, as we would 
exterminate pestiferous insects. And the other 
nations are even more insignificant. Their petty 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 161 


rulers send their doltish advisers to Peking, 
whom we do not deign to receive. These are 
the great nations, whose anger you fear!” 

“It is true I fear their anger, which is cold- 
blooded and calculating. If these nations are 
insignificant, how comes it that they have com- 
pelled China to keep open her doors to their 
merchants ; have wrung large sums of money from 
her for the killing of petty priests of their religion, 
have seized valuable territory from her on every 
trifling pretence, while they secretly laugh at her 
incapacity to defend herself against their aggres- 
sions. At any moment they can by united effort 
rend China asunder as wolves rend helpless sheep. 
If we continue to excite their anger they will do 
it.” 

His face was flushed ; he spoke with vehemence 
foreign to his usual quiet self-contained manner. 

Never since she sat upon the Dragon Throne 
had Tzu Hsi listened to such a speech. She was 
angry and amazed, and something else, a vague 
uneasiness, which was almost fear, assailed her; 
fear not for herself, but for this land of hers, which 
she ruled with autocratic finality, which she bled 
ruthlessly to satisfy her abnormal love of extra- 
vagance and the vicious craving for aggrandize- 
ment of her favourites, and yet which she loved 
with sincerity, after her own selfish fashion. 
Could this boy who never left the Forbidden City, 
unless to worship at the tombs of his ancestors, 
and at the altars of the Imperial Temples, or to 


ii 


1 62 


The Breath of the Dragon 


make obeisance to her in the Summer Palace, 
who was surrounded by her spies, could he foresee 
danger to China where she and the sage statesmen 
of the realm saw nothing? How was it possible? 
Yet he spoke with a conviction which had the 
force of prophecy. 

“You are talking strange foolishness. Crush 
China ! Rend her asunder as wolves rend helpless 
sheep! What effrontery of language is this! 
Who has dared fill your mind with these insane 
thoughts?” 

“No one. I have spoken my own thoughts. I 
have followed the trend of China’s history in the 
past and studiously read the books of the Western 
people which have been translated,” he answered. 

“Why do you demean yourself reading perni- 
cious literature written by ignorant barbarians?” 

“I read their books in order to master the 
methods which have enabled them to humiliate 
my country.” 

There was a silence during which the Empress 
Dowager seemed to be lost in uneasy reflections. 

“What are these books?” she finally demanded. 

“Histories for the most part — also geology, 
physiology, zoology, and astronomy,” replied 
Kuang Hsu, quietly. 

Again the Empress Dowager looked at him in 
quick amazement. More and more she was be- 
ginning to realize that she did not understand this 
weakling she had raised to the Dragon Throne. 
That he had scholarly tastes, was well acquainted 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 163 

with the Classics, she knew, but that he should 
read books, the very names of which were unknown 
to her, and should deduce from them opinions, 
arrive at conclusions bearing on China’s future, 
this seemed incredible to her. She could not with- 
hold from him a certain measure of admiration. 
He was of her blood and though she bore him no 
love, she felt pride in the power of his intellect. 
Aunt and nephew represented the two opposing 
forces at work in China; the one narrowly conser- 
vative, determined to adhere closely to the century- 
old order of things; the other, liberal, progressive, 
deprecating the blind worship of petrifying Chinese 
customs and habits of thought which held his 
country enslaved. 

Tzu Hsi did not know that in Kuang Hsu and 
in him alone lay the only hope of the Manchu 
dynasty. She more than any one realized the 
greatness of his intellect, but even she failed to 
grasp the fact that this Manchu princeling was a 
genius bom to play the greatest part of any mon- 
arch who ever sat upon the Dragon Throne. As 
he knelt submissively before her, she told herself 
that he must be watched more closely in the Yellow 
City; that while his force lay in his extraordinary 
mental abilities, hers lay in her will, which was 
iron. As long as he was subservient to her, sub- 
missive to her leading strings, he could remain 
upon the throne, but when he ceased to be docile 
she would act. 

In the meantime he must be kept physically 


164 The Breath of the Dragon 


weak lest his will become strong as his bodily 
strength increased. 

Today his conversation had made a deep im- 
pression upon her. She rose abruptly from the 
table. “Tell the court ladies they can come in 
and eat.” She gave the order to a eunuch; then 
turning to the Emperor she said : “ I have changed 
my mind about that decree. Sign it. You may 
go now.” 

Kuang Hsu kowtowed. He was leaving with 
glad, quick steps when she called to him: “I hear 
your reader is ill.” 

“Yes,” admitted the young man reluctantly. 
He had tried to keep all knowledge of this fact 
from the Empress Dowager, aware that she would 
seize the opportunity of replacing the eunuch, 
whom she knew to be loyally attached to his 
master, with a creature of her own, on pretext of 
doing him, the Emperor, a favour. 

He was not mistaken. 

“I will give you one of my eunuchs, a good 
reader and familiar with the Classics. You see 
how carefuliy I consider your comfort,” she added 
with a bland smile. 

“Yes,” said the Emperor, and forbore to 
thank her for the attention. She was about to 
comment on this neglect when Kuang Hsu sud- 
denly asked: “Were you pleased with the ladies 
who presented themselves to enter the Palace of 
Feminine Tranquillity?” 

Again the Empress Dowager experienced a 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 165 

sharp, unpleasant surprise. Never before had 
the Emperor evinced the slightest interest in the 
Manchu maidens who came to be selected for 
concubines. What was the reason of this sudden 
change? A disquieting thought flashed through 
her mind. Had he seen Wang-ti? She remem- 
bered the Chief Eunuch had accused the girl on 
the day of her arrival in the Palace of seeking to 
show herself to the Emperor. 

“Do you want to see the maidens?” she asked 
suavely. 

“Yes,” replied Kuang Hsu. He was perhaps 
not aware that a shade of eagerness had crept 
into his voice. 

To the Chief Eunuch who stood near listening 
to the conversation, the Empress Dowager said: 
“Conduct the young ladies who are being in- 
structed in court etiquette and feminine accom- 
plishments to the Throne Room.” 

“Your Majesty commands that all the young 
ladies come?” asked the Chief Eunuch. 

“Yes, all who are in the pavilion of the Purple 
Cloud,” she returned. 

The Chief Eunuch understood, as she intended 
he should understand, that the girl Wang-ti was 
not to be summoned. As Cobbler’s Wax Li de- 
parted on his errand, he murmured: “The Old 
Buddha is discerning,” and added sneeringly: 
“What has come over our Sir Puppet that he 
interests himself in the new candidates? Has he 
become a lover of women of a sudden?” 


1 66 The Breath of the Dragon 

In the meanwhile the Empress Dowager and 
Kuang Hsu repaired to the Throne Room to await 
the arrival of the new concubines. Tzu Hsi 
seated herself by a small table and began throwing 
dice from a gold cup without bestowing further 
attention upon her nephew, who stood silently by 
watching her. She made three unlucky casts and 
frowned with annoyance. She seized the cup 
again, paused an instant before throwing the dice, 
while her bright eyes sought the jade Buddha in 
its gold shrine on an adjoining table. Her lips 
moved; then she made a cast. Six different num- 
bers turned up. This was auspicious luck. Her 
face cleared and she became good humoured once 
more. 

It was not long before the Chief Eunuch returned 
driving before him, like a flock of frightened geese, 
the young women. They made deep obeisance 
before their sovereign. They were commanded 
to pass slowly, one by one, in review before the 
young Emperor. Kuang Hsu scanned their faces 
slowly. The Empress Dowager and the Chief 
Eunuch watched him curiously. As the last 
maiden filed past, he turned away with an ex- 
pression of chagrin and disappointment, an expres- 
sion not lost upon two pairs of keen eyes. 

“Are you satisfied?” inquired the Empress 
Dowager, pleasantly, when the young women 
were dismissed and again conducted to the pavilion. 

Kuang Hsu made a careless gesture. “Yes,” 
he replied. 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 167 


After a momentary silence he said casually: 

4 ‘Only ten women came. I understood there 
were eleven who had been accepted by your 
Majesty. ” 

“Then you understood wrong,” returned the 
Empress Dowager dryly. 

Before Kuang Hsu left the Summer Palace to 
return to the Forbidden City, he ordered one of 
his eunuchs to obtain a list of the names of the- 
young Manchu maidens who were accepted as 
candidates for the imperial harem. There were 
only ten names on the list. 

Tzu Hsi summoned the Chief Eunuch into her 
private apartment. 

“What is it Old Buddha?” asked Cobbler’s 
Wax Li, familiarly, seating himself. Forms and 
ceremonies were dropped when these two were 
alone together. 

“The Emperor’s reader is sick,” she said. 

‘ ‘ Did I not tell you on the first of the moon that 
he would fall sick?” he replied. 

“The Emperor says he will soon be better,” 
she continued. 

“He will grow worse, not better,” affirmed the 
eunuch calmly. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I am sure.” 

“The young Empress has told me that this 
eunuch reader is devoted to the Emperor. I do 
not wish the eunuchs to become devoted to him.” 

“Only a few are left in the Yellow City who 


The Breath of the Dragon 


1 68 

are not in our service. They will not remain there 
long,” said Li significantly. 

Tzu Hsi nodded, a comprehending gleam in her 
eyes. 

“I wish to send the Emperor a good reader to 
replace the sick one. Whom do you suggest?” 

Li considered a moment. “The servant S’ang; 
he is not stupid; he will serve us in the Yellow 
City.” 

“He is in attendance on the Insiao Kuniang ” (the 
little girl); this was the pet name the Empress 
Dowager had bestowed upon A-lu-te. 

“Let Ho-Shui wait upon her instead,” said Li. 

Ho-Shui was one of the followers and personal 
attendants of the Chief Eunuch, an ignorant fellow 
with a sly and brutal face. Li had his own reasons 
for desiring to make this change, reasons which 
for once had nothing to do with augmenting the 
army of spies surrounding the young Emperor in 
the Forbidden City. 

The Empress Dowager agreed to this plan. 

“Bring me my book; I will select a lucky day 
on which to make the change.” 

She studied the book attentively for a few 
minutes. • 

“Today,” she said; “send S’ang to the Emperor 
and let Ho-Shui attend the ‘little girl.’” 

“Yes, I will do that,” replied the Chief Eunuch. 
“And I will myself accompany S’ang to the Yellow 
City to see that he does not loiter unduly on th# 
road. ” 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 169 


Li was glad of an excuse to absent himself from 
Court for a day; he was anxious to interview Lord 
Yin at the earliest possible moment on the subject 
of his niece. 

That will not be necessary. A few hours more 
or less on the road does not matter. You need 
not go with him.” 

“As you will, Old Buddha,” returned the Chief 
Eunuch with assumed indifference. After a 
moment’s reflection, he said, “The tribute rice 
reached Tung-chow yesterday; it arrived in Peking 
today. I will go in to be present at the weighing; 
the steal was enormous last year. If these tri- 
bute shortages are not stopped, we will soon be 
without money sufficient to meet our daily ex- 
penses.” 

“Then I will levy on your little hoard,” replied 
Tzu Hsi maliciously. “A few thousand shoes of 
Hupei silver will put an end to that difficulty.” 

The Chief Eunuch kept an impassive face; he 
knew she was referring to the “squeeze,” more 
extortionate than any heretofore exacted, that 
he had wrung from the Hupei deputy who had 
come to the Palace in charge of the tribute from 
his province. She had heard of it through an 
enterprising eunuch, another of her favourites, 
who had hoped to ingratiate himself more with 
her and at the same time destroy Li. The attempt 
had been a failure, for Li, warned by one of his 
own creatures, had promptly forestalled the Old 
Buddha’s anger by sharing with her his spoils, 


170 The Breath of the Dragon 


and later had connived so successfully against his 
informer that he obtained her consent to have him 
beaten to death for some paltry offence. Li’s 
enemies were short-lived ; no one had ever opposed 
him with success and no opponent was too small 
to escape his vindictive passion. This fact being 
known at Court, none ventured to openly array 
themselves against him. 

Tzu Hsi at times appeared to derive a malicious 
pleasure by threatening to despoil her Chief Eunuch 
of his ill-gotten wealth. But in the main she 
treated him with an affectionate familiarity she 
seldom deigned to bestow upon members of her 
own family. She knew well that Li, cruel, vin- 
dictive, corrupt though he was, yet was wholly 
devoted to her and served her with unswerving 
fidelity. 

“All I have is yours to do with as you will, Old 
Buddha,” he said. “I have in silver taels ” 

“There, there, I care not what you have in 
silver taels — keep them, I do not need them. 
But you I do need, afod today you must stay 
here. The measuring of the tribute rice can wait. 
I have been worried enough with affairs of state. I 
want a little relaxation and amusement. See to it ! ” 

This was usually a congenial task to Li, but to- 
day it irked him exceedingly. With difficulty 
he restrained his impatience and forced his face to 
assume an expression of pleasure. 

“Was the little girl sleeping quietly when you 
saw her?” asked the Empress Dowager abruptly. 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 171 


“Yes,” replied the Chief Eunuch and smiled 
grimly as he recalled the rage he had witnessed. 

“By this time she will have recovered from her 
ailment. Tell her to attend me. I want every- 
one to have a happy day. Arrange the program 
carefully.” 

“I will see to it. But I fear that Lady Wang-ti 
will not be well enough to attend you. She looked 
white as she lay asleep, like one sick and exhausted. ” 
He wished to keep these two apart as much as 
possible, until he had determined upon the best 
method of getting rid of the girl, for if his embry- 
onic suspicions concerning her proved to be correct, 
her presence in the Palace was a danger to his 
power greater than any he had yet encountered. 
“The physicians prescribed absolute quiet,” he 
reminded her. 

“For three hours. She has had them. Let her 
come and enjoy herself with the rest of the Court,” 
retorted Tzu Hsi. She had no mind to forgo the 
pleasure which the society of A-lu-te afforded her. 

“You did well not to permit the Emperor to 
see her,” said Li calmly. 

The Empress Dowager looked at him quickly. 
“You, too, have had that thought?” she asked. 

“What thought, Old Buddha? Tell me what 
it is, I will have it forthwith,” he answered gaily. 

“Well, then, that she is too attractive, too intel- 
ligent to be risked near the Emperor”; she spoke 
slowly with puckered brows. 

“And she is too well versed in history. She 


172 


The Breath of the Dragon 


might seek to emulate former beautiful concubines 
in the Palace. She has qualities of mind and 
character that render her a dangerous acquisition 
at Court. Take my advice, Old Buddha, before 
it is too late, — send her away.” The Chief 
Eunuch was desperately in earnest. 

“No, I will not send her away. She defied you, 
therefore you hate her. That is your motive. 
Do not think to deceive me. Besides have I not 
said the Emperor is not to see her?” 

The Chief Eunuch laughed. “After all we 
are of the same mind, Old Buddha, in regard to 
her. And now I go to arrange the festivities and 
to send S’ang to the Yellow City. I promise you 
a merry day. Let nothing trouble your serenity; 
your old watchdog Li is here to guard you.” 

“Ride a fierce dog to catch a lame rabbit,” she 
mocked him good-naturedly. 

It was perhaps an hour later when S’ang sought 
A-lu-te in her pavilion. With a rapt look shining 
in his eyes he told her that his prayers had been 
answered; that he had been made reader to the 
Emperor; that he would have daily intercourse 
with him and with that daily intercourse would 
come the opportunity to tell him of the Gospel 
which is for all mankind. “My message burns 
upon my lips until I speak it and he hears it. I 
go today.” 

A-lu-te wondered miserably whether the God 
of the foreigners considered S’ang’s prayers more 
important than her own, that he should give him 


The Puppet Emperor Appears 173 


aid and refuse it to her. But had he refused it? 
Tonight she would know ! She ran to her dressing 
table and took from it a small lacquer box. She 
opened it, and emptying the contents, replaced 
them with a gold hairpin which she drew from the 
coils of her thick black hair. Then she hastily 
wrote a few words on a piece of paper and slipped 
it under the hairpin. She handed the box to the 
eunuch. 

“S’ang,” she said, “I am trusting you, even 
as you trusted me. Take this box and when you 
reach Peking, before you go to the Yellow City, 
seek out an old woman whose name I will tell you 
and where to find her. Give her this box and say 
it must be delivered in all haste to one whom she 
knows. Will you do this forme?” 

“I will do it,” promised S’ang. A-lu-te there- 
upon gave him the needful directions, repeating 
them twice over, that he make no mistake. 

* ‘ May God have you in His keeping. Farewell, ’ ’ 
said S’ang and left the pavilion. 

When he was gone, A-lu-te suddenly remem- 
bered that she had insulted this all-powerful God 
to whom S’ang prayed, and who was the God of 
the man upon whom she now depended for help 
and without whose aid she could not save Fen-Sha. 
She ran to the corner where she had flung the 
Bible and picked it up. She was relieved to find 
it had not been torn, or the binding injured by 
the furious stamping of her little feet. She laid 
the Bible on the K’ang and sinking on the floor 


174 The Breath of the Dragon 

kowtowed reverently before it. Then she prayed 
that the foreigner would answer her urgent sum- 
mons and wait for her by the green and yellow 
pagoda in the Wilderness Park near the western 
wall of the Summer Palace that night. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SUMMONS 

A few hours after A-lu-te entrusted S’ang with 
her urgent message to Follingsbee, Betty was 
leisurely taking her morning tea and toast. Then 
she wrote in her journal. 

Not everyone who keeps a journal is an egoist, 
though it may safely be assumed that every egoist 
keeps a journal. Two potent factors incite the 
journal habit in a young woman: a feeling of 
loneliness and one of happiness. 

Betty was happy. Every morning when she 
wakened, every hour during the long pleasant 
days, every night of dinners, dances, and moon- 
light garden-parties happiness radiated from her. 
There is something infectious in happiness, and 
Betty soon became the most popular young wo- 
man in Peking. No entertainment was complete 
without the presence of her joyous, winsome person. 
Elderly diplomats and aspiring young ones vied 
with one another in seeking her company. Even 
middle-aged married ladies with youthful cavaliers 
in their train almost had it in their hearts to like 
her. 


176 The Breath of the Dragon 


Betty described in her journal, with facile 
girlish pen, the social whirl in which she took so 
prominent a part She drew word pictures, inac- 
curate for the most part, but never unkind, of 
the members of the legations and the Imperial 
Maritime Customs. And she devoted pages to 
Sir Robert Hart’s dinner-dances in her honour 
and to his famous Chinese brass-band. 

In Betty’s journal, Follingsbee was mentioned 
only at the end of each day’s entry, and in a man- 
ner meant to be casual and impersonal. Yet like 
a postscript in a woman’s letter, his name consti- 
tuted the most important part of her chronicles. 

' She now closed the book and sat with elbows 
resting on the table, her lips smiling and her eyes 
with a soft brightness in them, staring at the wall. 

A childish voice angrily expostulating broke in 
upon her revery. The door was burst open and 
Tommy, the secretary’s little boy, appeared. He 
and Betty were fast friends. 

“The head-boy twied to keep me out, but I 
wouldn’t let him, I ’ knowed you would like to 
thee me,” he declared. 

“Of course,” said Betty, tucking her journal 
carefully away. 

“I know a thecret,” he announced and added 
promptly: “Thall I tell it to you? Thall I?” 

He earnestly hoped Betty would say “yes” and 
was dreadfully afraid she would say “no.” The 
little missionary boy who came to play with him 
was not above that very meanness. 


The Summons 


177 

He was relieved when Betty answered: “Yes, 
dear, do tell me.” 

“I tan’t,” he replied grandly, preparing to 
thoroughly enjoy himself while Betty teased to 
be told. But that trying young lady only said: 
“Oh! can’t you?” 

“No, I tan’t,” Tommy repeated, wiggling on 
the edge of his chair, impatient for the fun to begin. 

Betty, realizing that something was expected 
of her, asked: “Is it about your birthday?” 

* ‘ Nop,” shouted Tommy gleefully. “ I’th about 
Mr. Follingsbee ? ” 

“Mr. Follingsbee?” Betty’s interest was not 
assumed now. She spoke eagerly. “What was 
it, Tommy? Won’t you tell me?” 

“Tan’t,” reiterated the small boy, his face 
beaming with delight, “it ith a thecret.” 

“Did Mr. Follingsbee tell you?” 

“No! An old woman did tell me ” 

4 ‘ What old woman ? ’ ’ 

“I don’t know. I wath playing outside the 
Legation and she had yam-cakes to thell. She did 
give me two big cakes for nothing ” 

“What did she tell you?” Betty asked. 

But Tommy was not to be caught by such crude 
strategy. 

“The thecret,” he said, his tongue in his cheek 
and hugging his leg in an ecstasy of delight. The 
fun had finally begun. 

“Now, Tommy, you are going to tell your Betty, 
aren’t you?” she coaxed him softly, her slim young 


178 The Breath of the Dragon 


arms about his neck. Few could have resisted 
such sweet wheedling, but Tommy was made of 
sterner stuff than most of his sex. “Nop!” he 
said with joyous firmness. “I am’t.” 

“Oh, very well,” returned Betty. “If you won’t 
tell me I shan’t give you any candy. I bought a 
box at Kierulf’s yesterday.” Kierulf was a Dutch- 
man; he kept one of the two foreign stores in 
Peking. These stores were allowed on sufferance 
by the government as a convenience to foreign 
residents, though the Chinese of wealth patron- 
ized them for watches, clocks, and mechanical 
toys. 

Betty opened a box of French crystallized fruit 
and gave Tommy one tantalizing glimpse of its 
luscious contents. 

“How many can I have?” he inquired, visibly 
weakening. 

“Three large ones.” 

With small legs wide apart and earnest face, 
Tommy bent over the box. The business of 
selecting three large sugar plums was a serious 
one requiring time and careful thought. Finally 
he made his choice and popped the biggest sugar 
plum in his mouth. 

“Now,” said Betty, “what did the old woman 
tell you?” 

Tommy, true to his bargain, proceeded to relate 
as lucidly as a sticky mass of sugar-fruit adhering 
to his sharp little teeth permitted, how the woman, 
after giving him the yam-cakes, had asked him if 


The Summons 


179 


he could -keep a secret, and being assured that he 
could, had thrust into his hands a small package, 
at the same time exacting a promise from him not 
to show it to the servants but to hasten with it 
to the master of the American Legation and beg 
him to give it, without delay, to Mr. Follingsbee, 
she herself having forgotten where he lived. 

“Did you give the package to father?” inquired 
Betty eagerly. 

“Nop — I couldn’t — cauth he went to the Yamen 
thith morning with the interpreter.” 

Tommy was always conversant with Legation 
affairs. 

“What did you do with the package ?” asked 
Betty anxiously. 

“I dug a little hole under the bambooth in the 
flower-garden and played the package was a deader 
and I did bury it.” 

“Quick, Tommy! Show me exactly where you 
dug the hole,” cried Betty. 

Seizing the boy’s hand she ran with him into 
the garden. A coolie, at work with hoe and rake 
by the very clump of bamboos Tommy had indi- 
cated, stooped suddenly and picked something 
up from the ground. The boy’s quick eye saw 
the action. He broke from Betty and rushed at 
the man. 

“Oh, you rabbit! you servant of hell!” shrieked 
Tommy in the vernacular; he spoke it as well as a 
Peking native and quite as forcibly. “Drop that! 
It’s mine!” 


i8o. The Breath of the Dragon 

The man grinned. 

Tommy was a general favourite with the Lega- 
tion servants. 

When Betty came up, the coolie bent his knee 
to her, then shuffled off. But Tommy planted 
himself squarely before him. 

'‘Your mother was a beggar, your father was a 
temple coolie, you are accursed of Buddha for 
digging in my ground and taking my property. 
Remove it from your dirty sleeve and give it to 
me.” 

Perhaps if Betty had not been there the man 
might laughingly have pushed Tommy aside and 
made off to the servant quarters with his find. 
But he now thrust his hand up the wide sleeve of 
his blue blouse and, drawing forth a torn, dirty 
package, handed it to the boy. 

“Here it is, little master,” he said. “I found 
it in a hole under the bamboos. Since it is yours 
why should I keep it?” 

“Since it is mine you would of course not wish 
to keep it,” returned Tommy politely. He was 
perfectly familiar with Chinese methods of face- 
saving. He trotted off with Betty to the Minister’s 
office, tightly grasping his recovered property, 

Mr. Danford had returned. He listened quietly 
while Tommy, urged by Betty, repeated his story. 

Having told his tale he stepped grandly up to 
the Minister, the package in his outstretched 
hands. It slipped from his little fingers; a piece 
of paper fell out and a gold hairpin, such as native 


The Summons 


181 


women of wealth wear, rolled onto the floor. 
The Minister looked at this gold bauble surprised, 
displeased, even with anger. Had Follingsbee 
been mixed up in a vulgar intrigue with some 
Chinese woman who had taken this method of 
communicating with him? 

But with a moment’s reflection he dismissed the 
thought. He picked up the gold pin and returned 
it to its box. 

“My boy,” he said to Tommy, “you have done 
right to keep the promise you made to the old 
woman.” Tommy flushed with pleasure, but his 
little face fell when the Minister added: “Only 
another time don’t accept packages from street 
pedlars to deliver in the Legation. That’s not 
your business.” 

He opened the door and shook hands with 
grave politeness with the child as he ushered him 
out. 

No one observed a paper flutter from the office 
floor into the court. 

Mr. Danford closed the door and returned to his 
desk where Betty was still standing immobile and 
silent. Before either of them spoke Tommy was 
back again clutching a piece of paper. This time 
he was accompanied by Mr. Collins, the Legation 
interpreter. The latter was smiling broadly. 

“Tommy,” he said, “has found a Chinese 
billet-doux in the court, which he insists upon 
giving you, sir. I read it under the impression that 
it pertained to official matters. This is what it 


i8a 


The Breath of the Dragon 


says: ‘Remember your promise. Meet her who 
sends the gold hairpin, tonight at the hour of the 
Rat, by the green and yellow pagoda close to the 
western wall of the Wilderness Park. He 
laughed. “A Chinese love intrigue, an elope- 
ment — what? I wonder which of the Legation 
servants is the gay Lothario?” 

The Minister did not echo his laugh. There 
was something in his countenance which caused 
the interpreter hastily to suppress his merriment. 

He took the paper Tommy was stolidly holding 
out to him and thrust it back into the box with the 
gold hairpin. There came flooding to his mind 
certain rumours which had reached him concern- 
ing Follingsbee, rumours to which heretofore he 
had endeavoured to give scant heed and no 
credence. Now it was different; he had forced 
upon him the vulgar evidence of Follingsbee’s 
low intrigues with native women. His disap- 
pointment in the young man’s character was in 
proportion to the disgust he felt, which was very 
great. 

“Do you want me this morning, sir?” inquired 
the interpreter. 

“No — not till after tiffin,” replied the Minister 
shortly. 

“You are not going to the races, then?” The 
interpreter’s tones conveyed aggrieved surprise. 

Mr. Danford made an impatient movement. 
“I forgot for the moment — you need not return.” 

The interpreter bowed and left the office taking 


The Summons 183 

Tommy with him in obedience to a gesture from 
his chief. 

1 ‘Father,” said Betty, with a queer little catch 
in her voice, “please send Foo-ling immediately 
with this box to Mr. Follingsbee.” 

The Minister wheeled about. “On my word, 
Betty, you surprise me”; his voice was biting. 
“Do you think I am here to forward love tokens 
from native women to young men, even when the 
latter happen to be Americans?” 

“Then I will,” declared Betty, reaching for 
the box. Without a word Mr. Danford swept the 
package into a drawer of his desk, turned the key, 
and dropped it in his vest-pocket. 

“You won’t let me have it? And you won’t 
sent it to Jack?” cried Betty. 

“Exactly — I won’t let you have it and I won’t 
send it to the young man you are pleased to call 
‘Jack.’ You have stated the case correctly. 
By the way, how long is it since you have taken 
to calling Mr. Follingsbee ‘Jack’? ” 

“Oh, quite a long time,” returned Betty airily. 

“You will oblige me by not doing so in the 
future.” And the Minister bent over his desk 
again. It was an indication that as far as he was 
concerned, their conversation was concluded. 

“I will call him anything you like, if you will 
only forward that box. You see, father,” she 
continued hurriedly, fearing a second emphatic 
refusal, “I know all about the young woman who 
sent it. It is a very important message.” 


184 The Breath of the Dragon 


“You will be good enough to explain how it 
happens that you know anything concerning this 
matter, also from whom you acquired your infor- 
mation.” 

‘Why from Jack — I mean Mr. Follingsbee, 
of course.” 

“Indeed! And what did he say?” 

“I am sorry, father dear, but I can’t tell you. 
I promised Ja — that is, I mean Mr. Follingsbee 
particularly desired that you should know nothing 
about it.” 

“And I particularly desire that from this day 
on you have absolutely no intercourse with Mr. 
Follingsbee. You are not to receive him when 
he calls; if he writes you are not to reply to his 
notes ; if you meet him elsewhere you are to avoid 
speaking to him.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, father ! Do you mean that ? ” cried Betty. 

“Emphatically — yes,” returned the Minister.] 

“But I must give him that message,” she ex- 
postulated. She was very near to tears. 

Mr. Danford made no reply. 

“May I?” asked Betty w r ith unaccustomed 
meekness. 

“No.” 

Mr. Danford was the mildest, the most lenient 
of fathers. Betty had never encountered from 
him opposition to her smallest whims or wishes; 
but now she found herself suddenly confronting 
a new parent, one who was stern, inflexible, 
authoritative. 


The Summons 


185 

Silently she crossed the office and stood by the 
door leading into the drawing-room. Then she 
turned. Her face was pale and her lips trembled 
a little. “Father,” she said slowly, “I intend to 
tell him about that message this afternoon at the 
races.” 

“You are at least frank. I will be equally so. 
If you disobey me in this matter, I will send you 
home to your Aunt Lavinia.” 

Betty gasped. She was prepared for much 
but not for this. To give up the gaieties, the 
happiness of her life in Peking, to bury herself in a 
dull, little Illinois village with her Aunt Lavinia 
— her love for this relative was of a very nega- 
tive quality — and above all, to leave Follingsbee, 
filled her with dismay. She experienced, for the 
first time in her young life, a lively sense of awe 
of her father, together with a conviction that his 
threat was not an idle one. 

She went to her own room, locked the door, and 
dropping in a chair, rested her chin on her hand 
and thought. At the end of ten minutes she had 
made up her mind. There was determination in 
the lines about her pretty mouth; but her eyes 
were misty with the expression of a child that 
knows it will be hurt. 

She changed into her habit. A half-hour later 
the headboy announced the arrival of “five 
piecee gentlemen.” They had come to ride with 
Betty to the races. 

She found her father already mounted and wait- 


1 86 The Breath of the Dragon 

ing when she appeared in the court with her escort. 
She avoided his gravely questioning glance and 
placing her small foot in the hand of a young 
Englishman sprang lightly into her saddle. Then 
laughing and chatting she led the way out of the 
Legation gates. 

The race-course of the foreigners lay five miles 
from Peking in an easterly direction. On a slight 
elevation not far from the grand stand, a crowd 
of inquisitive Chinese had gathered to watch the 
sports of the foreigners. 

The first secretary of one of the legations was 
strolling up and down the road with a suave smile 
and a horsewhip; he treated the gaping celestials 
indiscriminately to both when they ventured to 
intrude too near the forbidden precinct of the 
pavilion. The secretary was always polite, even 
when most cutting. 

The pavilion was already crowded when our 
little calvacade arrived. No form of entertain- 
ment was more popular in society circles of the 
legations and Customs than the semi-annual 
Peking races. Gentlemen were their own jockeys, 
except in the last race when the mafoos were al- 
lowed to ride their masters’ ponies trained by 
themselves. 

Betty noted with mingled feelings of relief and 
disappointment that Follingsbee was not on the 
pavilion, nor was he among the men grouped close 
to the track. 

Eight ponies were entered for the first race. 


The Summons 


187 

They were ridden by members of the English, 
French, and Russian legations and of the Imperial 
Maritime Customs. The riders were dressed in 
white jockey suits with sleeves and caps of brilliant 
colours. 

On the pavilion, ladies, staid, elderly diplomats, 
and young men were all alike eagerly leaning 
forward to watch the start. 

The first, second, third, and fourth races were 
run, and still Follingsbee did not appear. Tiffin 
was served in the large room of the pavilion. 
With the metallic click-click of busy knives and 
forks upon well-filled plates, came the sound of 
lively talk and laughter. Softly treading servants 
replenished the wine-glasses and healths were 
drunk and responded to. 

The young Fourth Assistant B. of the Customs 
was called upon to answer a toast to the jockeys. 
He rose, a little less red than the sleeves of his 
coat, opened his mouth automatically several times, 
but when no words issued from his parted lips, 
he dropped into his seat again amidst a round of 
applause, bravos, and hear-hears ! 

A good-looking young German, blissfully con- 
tent by reason of a fair-haired maiden beside 
him, and an elaborate tiffin within him, sighed vol- 
canically: “ Mein Frdulein , ich liebe sie — Ach Gott , 
wie bin ich salt J” 

After tiffin the races were continued. It was 
late in the afternoon when Follingsbee on a foam- 
spattered horse dashed up. He flung the reins to 


1 88 The Breath of the Dragon 

an attending mafoo, instructed him to give his 
animal a rub-down, then mounted the pavilion 
steps two at a time to join Betty. 

Mr. Danford was discussing certain fine points 
in chess with the young Belgian Charg6 d ’Affaires 
— they were both enthusiasts in the game — and he 
failed to notice the arrival of Follingsbee. He had 
in fact ceased to expect him and had abated 
something of his vigilance. 

Not so Betty. She had been straining her eyes 
for hours past scanning the white dusty road 
watching for him. Now she deliberately detached 
herself from the group of young men about her 
and met Follingsbee as he advanced, smiling, 
with outstretched hand, to greet her. 

“Mr. Follingsbee!” she said in a low, hurried 
voice, “she has sent for you!” 

He understood immediately. “Her message 
came here?” he exclaimed in surprise. “And I 
have been waiting all day in my rooms! I only 
left half an hour ago — I wanted to ride home with 
you. Where is the messenger?” 

Without replying to his question Betty asked: 
“How does she sign her notes?” 

| “She doesn’t sign them. She sends them with 
a gold or silver hairpin, such as Manchu women 
wear.” 

‘ 1 1 knew it ! I knew it!” she cried in an excited 
but suppressed voice. “Father thinks it was a 
love-letter he was asked to forward and I couldn’t 
tell him anything because I promised you not to. 


The Summons 


189 


He was very, very angry.” Before Follingsbee 
could give expression to his amazement she plunged 
into the story of Tommy’s package and how it 
occurred that the Minister had become acquainted 
with its contents. 

Follingsbee stared aghast; he had not thought 
of the possibility of A-lu-te’s message being de- 
livered at the Legation or falling into the hands of 
the American Minister. That Mr. Danford should 
have placed the construction he did upon the note 
struck him like a blow in the face. He set his jaws 
hard, as if to suppress something seeking utterance. 

He felt a small hand touch his arm, and looked 
into a pair of blue, anxious eyes. 

“Go,” said Betty. “You will be late.” 

He did not move. He had quick perceptions 
and was elusively conscious that Betty was keeping 
something back. His eyes were intent on hers 
and persistently held them. 

“You have not told me all,” he said. 

“No,” she was surprised into admitting. 

Again Follingsbee understood. 

“You were forbidden to speak to me!” he 
exclaimed. 

She nodded her pretty head soberly. 

“Betty,” his voice was lowered to a whisper, 
“if I am not back in Peking within a week, tell 
your father everything. If I am back I will tell 
him myself and something more — that I love you, 
Betty ! Whatever happens, dear heart, remember 
that I love you.” 


190 


The Breath of the Dragon 


He crushed her hands in his, then turned and 
sprang down the pavilion steps, mounted his tired 
horse, and galloped off. He was suddenly seized 
with a nerve-racking fear that before he could 
reach his quarters, change into Chinese garb, and 
cover the fourteen miles to the Summer Palace, 
he would be too late to help A-lu-te. As his horse 
tore over the dusty highway, Mr. Danford chanced 
to look that way and saw him. 

The next moment Betty’s arm was linked in 
his. She said demurely to the Belgian Charg6 
d’ Affaires: “I cannot lead the cotillion with you 
at the Bal Poudre next month after all. Father 
says I must return home to my Aunt Lavinia to 
complete my education.” 

It was Betty’s way of informing her father that 
she had disobeyed but had not deceived him. 


CHAPTER XIV 


IMPERIAL PLEASURES 

The f6te which the Chief Eunuch arranged for 
his royal mistress had never been equalled in 
brilliancy in the Summer Palace. Although ap- 
parently he had but a few hours in which to make 
the necessary arrangements, he had, as a matter of 
fact, completed his preparations long ago. It was 
one of his many clever characteristics that he 
prepared in advance entertainments of great 
splendour; then presented them to the Court in 
’the guise of impromptu affairs and so excited the 
admiration, wonder, and delight of Tzu Hsi. The 
revenues of state, the appropriations for the navy, 
were expended on these festivals, but the powerful 
Chamberlain had no need to fear the royal dis- 
pleasure at this misuse of public funds. On the 
contrary, after each f£te, his influence increased 
with the Empress Dowager and he became more 
and more indispensable to his pleasure-loving mis- 
tress. On this occasion his arrangements had been 
made on a gigantic scale. The flower-filled courts 
were converted into great rooms; brilliantly 
painted poles, supporting transverse beams, 


192 


The Breath of the Dragon 


painted in the same design, surrounded each court 
and formed the support for roofs of matting, 
beautiful in texture and colour. Beyond these 
flowering semi-shaded rooms where fountains of 
perfumed water played and birds in silver cages 
trilled their pretty songs, a large oblong court had 
been converted into a crowded Peking street scene. 
There were gaily decked silk and embroidery shops, 
curio shops, pawnbrokers establishments, restau- 
rants, tea-houses, wine-taverns. Eunuchs attired 
as merchants and clerks sat behind counters, or 
stood before the doors of these shops to entice the 
passer-by to enter. Pedlars and barbers wandered 
up and down the street, bawling their trade; 
waiters from restaurants shouted the names of 
savoury dishes ready to be served. 

When the Empress Dowager, accompanied by 
her ladies, came upon this novel and animated 
scene, this replica of a crowded Peking business 
street (but without the unpleasant features of dirt 
and beggars), she was immensely entertained. 
She entered the silk and curio shops and drove 
hard bargains with the clerks. She purchased won- 
derful jade trees and jewelled ornaments from the 
silversmiths, and pawned them again gaily in 
the neighbouring pawn-shops. She sipped tea in 
the tea-houses and ate in the restaurants, then 
returned with renewed vigour to buying and bar- 
gaining in the shops. She was full of charming 
gaiety, and A-lu-te, whom she kept close by her, 
was as gay as she; the exuberance of their spirits 


Imperial Pleasures 


193 


was infectious, everyone was laughing, joking, 
making merry. The hours sped rapidly. As the 
day advanced and before the new amusement had 
begun to pall Li begged the Empress Dowager to 
don the dress of Yan Ling, the Goddess of Mercy, 
and enter her chair, to go where another fete 
awaited her. By the marble terrace bordering the 
lake near the Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas, 
a gigantic barge shaped like a phoenix was moored. 
Joined to this barge by cords of yellow silk were 
innumerable small boats in the form of butterflies, 
fishes, dragonflies, and swans, so ingeniously con- 
structed, the rowers were concealed from view. 
When the Empress Dowager and her ladies were 
embarked, Li gave the signal to start ; the invisible 
rowers plied their painted oars, the yellow ropes 
stretched, and the fleet slowly glided out into the 
lake. A blare of trumpets sounded from among 
the trees on the shore. Before the last echo died 
away, a thousand voices broke into a triumphant 
song of praise to the Goddess of Mercy. Floating 
towards the phoenix boat came two enormous 
pink lotus blossoms. The petals of the blossoms 
gradually unfolded, showing a beautiful boy and 
girl holding in their hands, the one a bottle of 
jade, the other a willow branch. The flowers 
slowly closed again ; as they closed the boy and girl 
began to ascend until they seemed to be poised on 
the very tips of the lotus buds. When they were 
close to the phoenix boat, they stepped on board 
and ranged themselves on either side of the Em- 


13 


/94 The Breath of the Dragon 

press Dowager. They represented the two at- 
tendants of the Goddess of Mercy who carry for her 
the jade bottle and willow branch with which she 
brings the dead to life again. 

The scene pleased Tzii Hsi. It had been clev- 
erly and artistically contrived and was subtly flat- 
tering to her overweening vanity. 

She had scarcely time to extend a few words of 
praise to Li when a great raft, hidden beneath a 
mass of beautiful blooming roses, palms, and flower- 
ing trees, to represent a semi-tropical island, 
appeared. Pretty little thatched-roofed fisher- 
men’s huts showed amid the vines and trees. The 
Chief Eunuch requested the Empress Dowager to 
explore the island. In the huts fanciful costumes 
of fisher-folk were found. 

The Empress Dowager selected one of these 
costumes and all the court ladies did likewise. 
Thus arrayed they went at Li’s request to the 
shores of the island to fish. 

He handed to each a fishing-rod; that of the 
Empress Dowager was made of gold with line of 
yellow silk and a golden hook. The court ladies 
were given rods of bamboo but every line different 
in colour. 

Tzii Hsi was the first to try her luck. She cast 
her line into the lake. When she drew it up a 
beautiful necklace of rubies and sapphires hung 
from the hook. With an exclamation of delight 
— Tzii Hsi was extravagantly fond of jewels — 
she examined the treasure, then threw it over her 


Imperial Pleasures 


195 


neck and swung her line again into the water, 
while she waited with eager expectancy for the 
premonitory jerk indicative of a nibble. This 
time she brought up a large golden oyster. She 
was at no pains to conceal her disappointment — the 
necklace had prepared her for something more 
artistic and of greater intrinsic value. The Chief 
Eunuch, noting her expression, smiled. “Will 
your Majesty deign to open the oyster?” he asked. 
In the golden shell lay a pearl, large as a hen’s 
egg, in shape and colour more perfect than any 
pearl Tzu Hsi had ever seen. 

“Beautiful! Beautiful!” she cried. “Li, are 
you a wizard that you cause fish like this to swim in 
my lake?” 

‘ ‘ Will your Majesty angle some more ? Perhaps 
there are other fish enviously waiting to be 
caught?” 

‘ ‘ Let me see if they will bite as well for someone 
else,” and turning to the court ladies she said, 

* ‘ Come, one of you fish now. ’ ’ Chou-Chau, always 
fearful lest she fail promptly to obey a royal com- 
mand, hastily flung in her line, which was black. 
She pulled it up with difficulty; everyone crowded 
near, eager to see what fair fortune such heaviness, 
portended. The next minute a shriek of horror 
from Chou-Chau and screams of laughter from 
the others greeted her catch. A dead rat hung 
limply from her line. Tears of merriment rolled 
down the Empress Dowager’s cheek. Li grinned 
wickedly. 


196 The Breath of the Dragon 


“The Lady Chou-Chau is unfortunate in having 
a black line; fishes do not like black. ” 

“Then, ” cried the Empress Dowager still laugh- 
ing, “let us see how they like pink. ” 

A dainty little person stepped forward and, not 
without trepidation, tried her luck. To her delight 
she captured a pair of handsome jade ear-rings. 
And so, one after another, the young women fished 
and each one caught a jewel of more or less value 
according as the Chief Eunuch gauged her standing 
at Court and her favour with the Empress Dowager. 
His method of managing this fishing bout was 
sufficiently simple. A young eunuch was posted 
on the other side of the island raft; at a pre- 
arranged signal from Li, he dived under the raft, 
attached the fish to the line, according to instruc- 
tions already received, and breathlessly returned 
again to await the next signal. 

A-lu-te had contented herself watching the 
others, but now the Empress Dowager cried, 
1 ‘ Come, Wang-ti, fish ! fish ! Your line is green and 
I feel sure the fishes will favour a colour which is 
like their own lake when stirred by the wind. ” 
Privately A-lu-te was of the opinion that they 
would show the same aversion to green they had 
already displayed to black. She was resolved, 
however, not to gratify the Chief Eunuch by any 
expression of dismay, or horror, even should she 
too find a dead rat affixed to her line. She exulted 
when she fished from the depths an exquisite 
bracelet encrusted with jewels. She did not know 


Imperial Pleasures 


197 


that Li was merely biding his time ; that he was not 
yet ready to strike. The sport continued with 
great animation for several hours, during which 
period the Empress Dowager added jewels of great 
magnificence to a supply which already far sur- 
passed in value and beauty the crown jewels of 
any European monarch. The eunuch who did 
the necessary diving and swimming having sud- 
denly died of exhaustion, this part of the entertain- 
ment ceased. A sumptuous banquet was now 
spread, and all regaled themselves with much 
merriment. All, that is, except poor Chou-Chau, 
who was looking with timid envy at the handsome 
fishes caught by her more favoured companions. 
A-lu-te’s gaiety was feverish in its intensity; she 
was the life <pf the party. The Empress Dowager 
was so delighted with her vivacity that in a 
moment of reckless munificence she offered A-lu-te 
her choice of jewels from among the precious stones 
she had come into possession of that day. Every- 
one gasped with envy and astonishment for no one 
doubted that the new favourite would select the 
priceless pearl shaped like a hen’s egg which the 
Empress Dowager had admitted was the most 
magnificent of all her treasures. Many stole 
covert glances at the Chief Eunuch, to see how he 
would take this last caprice of the royal lady, a 
caprice which gave to one who was not even a 
princess of the blood a jewel fit only for a sovereign 
to wear and for which the Chief Eunuch had sent 
emissaries throughout the Orient to find and had 


198 The Breath of the Dragon 


paid untold millions to buy. But Li knew his 
mistress too well to feel other than maliciously 
pleased at the unexpected turn affairs had taken. 
Tzu Hsi was sincere today in offering to give 
away this wonderful jewel, but tomorrow she 
would be furious against the recipient of her 
munificence; he would feed the fuel of her rage by 
accusing the girl of arrogance and presumption in 
daring to own a gem suitable alone for the adorn- 
ment of the great rulers of the world. But his 
satisfaction was short-lived. A-lu-te without be- 
stowing a second glance upon the wealth so tempt- 
ingly offered her said gaily : 

“Jewels formed for her Majesty would look as 
out of place upon her handmaiden Wang-ti as 
dragon robes upon a vendor of pots and pans. 
Instead of pearls, therefore, she asks the privilege 
of continuing near her Majesty and being one of 
those who keep watch over her royal slumbers 
tonight. ” 

Tzu Hsi was enchanted with this speech; the 
court ladies were dumbfounded, for not only did 
this girl refuse a gem which meant wealth to her 
and her entire family, but she asked instead to be 
permitted to perform a duty which they all hated 
only a degree less than that of waking her Imperial 
Majesty. As for the Chief Eunuch his vexation 
was too great to be concealed. He sneered openly. 
But the Empress Dowager failed to perceive it; 
she was engaged in graciously granting A-lu-te’s 
request. 


Imperial Pleasures 


199 


Twilight fell and the Court embarked once more. 
Over the lake luminous lotus flowers floated like 
fairy lights guiding the fleet to shore. Here 
hundreds of eunuchs were kneeling, holding 
aloft glowing lanterns to form the characters of 
“Peace,” “Prosperity,” and “Long Life.” 

When the Empress Dowager landed the eunuchs 
rose and, still holding high their lanterns, formed a 
procession and lighted the way to the theatre, 
where the Court listened to a cleverly dramatized 
historical poem written by Tzii Hsi. It was late 
when the Empress Dowager finally sought her bed. 


CHAPTER XV 


A DESPERATE MIDNIGHT VENTURE 

A-lu-te, watching in the Empress Dowager’s 
bedroom, felt her heart throbbing with anxiety 
and impatience. Would the Great Old Buddha 
never go to sleep? Would she be for ever closing 
her eyes only to open them again to scold the slave- 
girls who were rubbing her ankles with sweet smell- 
ing ointments? Sweet smelling ointments! As 
if the room were not already filled to suffocation 
with the cloying scents shed from those silk em- 
broidered sachet bags of jasmine, bergamot, roses, 
and musk, dangling from the sandalwood frame 
of the imperial bed. 

A-lu-te’s b*vad felt dull and heavy in the over- 
burdened atmosphere. The room was not large; 
eight persons besides the Empress Dowager were 
in it. Every night two slave-girls were on duty 
here; their work was superintended by two amahs 1 , 
who in turn were under constant observation of 
two eunuchs, while two court ladies were delegated 
to watch them all. 

Outside the door, on the cool tiled floor, six 

1 Maids. 


200 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 201 

eunuchs squatted, guardians of the entrance to the 
imperial bedchamber. 

Tonight the Old Buddha was overtired and in 
spite of the skilful massage of the slave-girls she 
could not sleep. Even a great Empress is not 
powerful enough to compel the capricious god of 
slumber to obey her summons. Tzu Hsi tossed 
to and fro on her bed ; she twisted and turned, she 
stretched out her feet and drew them up again; 
when the slave-girls ceased rubbing but an instant, 
to pursue the imperial limbs in their restless 
journeyings, she commanded the amahs to slap 
their faces, which was done with such vigour, the 
girls’ yellow cheeks glowed with scarlet hue. Nor 
were they the only ones to suffer the royal dis- 
pleasure. Chou-Chau’s cough, which she man- 
aged all evening to suppress by supreme effort, 
now refused to be longer controlled and broke out 
in a long shaking paroxysm. 

In the dim light of the room the blazing eyes of 
the Empress Dowager resembled two balls of fire. 
‘ ‘ Stop that noise ! ’ ’ she shrieked, * ‘ stop it ! Do you 
think because you are the daughter of the Viceroy 
Su you can keep me awake with your noise? Ask 
Li what happened to the concubine Wah-Ping 
and be grateful if you escape her punishment!” 

Chou-Chau nearly burst a blood-vessel in efforts 
to stifle the cough. Trembling with fear and pain, 
she buried her head in a cushion to smother the 
sound. 

A-lu-te stepped in front of her, that the Empress 


202 The Breath of the Dragon 

Dowager might not continue to be irritated with 
the sight of her cough-racked body. 

“You need not try to shield her — she is not 
worth it. She has been in the Palace two years 
and in all that time has never done one thing right. 
Her miscellaneous uselessness is marvellous. — 
You are hurting my ankle with your clumsy 
rubbing,” she cried angrily to the slave-girl 
nearest her. “Tomorrow you shall have a taste 
of the bamboo. ” 

“Great Old Ancestor, may your handmaiden 
speak?” asked A-lu-te. 

• The Empress Dowager did not answer, she 
turned her face to the wall. To be angry is to be 
miserable and Tzu Hsi was very miserable indeed; 
she was utterly tired out and her inability to sleep 
had well-nigh driven her, as well as her attendants, 
distracted. 

It was frequently her custom, when sleep was 
long in coming, or when she woke from restless 
dreams, to rise and go out into the great, quiet 
night, where the beauty of the stars and the soft 
sounds of the night-world soothed her irritated 
nerves, and the poet and the artist in her tri- 
umphed over her unrest. But tonight she was 
overtired and wanted nothing so much as to sleep, 
and, because she could not lose herself in slumbers 
in the scent-laden atmosphere, she was angry as a 
spoilt and wilful child is angry when she is denied 
that which she wants. 

For a while no sound was heard in the room, 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 203 

except the low, musical tinkling of small, gaily 
painted glass pendants touched by a breeze which 
crept through the windows. Suddenly the Em- 
press Dowager said, “Speak then, and be quick 
about it* ” 

A-lu-te approached the bed. Her voice was low 
and with that soothing quality which helps to 
calm sick persons and querulous children. “This 
handmaiden thinks she can cause sleep to close 
the eyelids of the Great Old Ancestor, if she will 
command the slave-girls to yield their place to her.” 

“Very well, let them go — they are useless as 
flies, have less brains and are more horrid!” 

The slaves were grateful to A-lu-te for relieving 
them and quickly left the imperial bedside to lean 
wearily against the wall in a far corner of the room. 

A-lu-te, with firm, but gentle fingers, began to 
stroke the soles of the Empress Dowager’s feet. 
Not being frightened as the slaves had been, her 
touch was neither nervously weak nor did it 
press unduly hard. As her hand passed steadily 
back and forth over the soles of the slender' little 
feet, the Old Buddha felt soothed, her irritability 
was replaced by a feeling of pleasant calm. Her 
eyelids began to droop. “Wang-ti, ” she said 
drowsily, “I shall soon sleep; you have soothed my 
heart as well as my aching limbs ! ” Then, rousing 
herself, she added with that melody of voice and 
gracious tenderness of manner few could resist, 
“Was I cross with you just now, Hsiao Kuniang? 
No? I am glad of that; I do not want to be cross 


204 The Breath of the Dragon 

with you ; I want you to love me all the time, every 
little minute of every hour. ” And she closed her 
eyes and slept like a tired child. 

Something stirred in A-lu-te’s breast as she 
stood there still stroking the slender feet. She 
felt suddenly that, cruel, passionate, as she knew 
this autocratic Empress to be, who now lay sleep- 
ing peacefully, soothed by her touch, she would 
not willingly harm a hair of her head, and that, 
except Fen-Sha, there was no one she loved so 
much. She felt angry and puzzled. Why, she 
asked herself, could she not hate this woman who 
exercised her almost unlimited power over her 
subjects as caprice and passion dictated? 

A slight, almost imperceptible, sound caused 
A-lu-te to turn quickly, her fingers to her lips, 
cautioning silence. The sound had come from 
the slave-girls, who, seeing their royal mistress 
asleep at last, had sunk to the floor, their heads 
thrown back against the wall, their heavy-lidded 
eyes closed. 

A-lu-te glanced at the others. It was apparent 
that the slave-girls had but followed the example 
of the amahs and the eunuchs who were now no 
longer standing, but reclining on the floor, fast 
asleep. 

Chou-Chau alone was waking. 

A-lu-te noiselessly drew close to her and whis- 
pered in her ear, ‘ ‘ Do you sleep also ; you are more 
tired than they; I will keep watch and will rouse 
you ere they wake. ” 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 205 


With a faint sigh of relief, the half-sick and 
wholly exhausted girl pressed A-lu-te’s hand in 
silent gratitude and, cushioning her head on the 
pillow which had helped to smother her cough, she 
too dropped asleep. 

A derisive little smile hovered about A-lu-te’s 
mouth, as her gaze rested on these guardians of the 
royal bedchamber. Cautiously she crossed the 
room, raised the heavily embroidered portieres, 
and peered into the outer chamber; the six eunuchs 
were slumbering peacefully stretched full length 
upon the floor. 

A-lu-te returned softly to her post. Her move- 
ments had been catlike in their noiselessness. 
The Empress Dowager was sleeping on her side; 
her left arm lay upon the rose-silk sheet, her other 
arm was hidden. A-lu-te could not see, much less 
touch the ring, upon the forefinger of that hidden 
right hand. 

The minutes passed. The Empress Dowager 
did not stir; her sleep was profound. What if the 
eunuchs wakened before she had accomplished her 
purpose? Or one of the amahs or the slave-girls 
roused themselves to watch? The mere thought 
made her heart stop beating. The Old Bud- 
dha must be made to turn. Slowly, cautiously, 
A-lu-te slipped her fingers under the hand rest- 
ing upon the pink cover, and stroked the palm. 
The sleeper stirred uneasily and moved her 
hand. A-lu-te stopped, then repeated the strok- 
ing. Again the Empress Dowager stirred. A-lu-te 


206 


The Breath of the Dragon 


waited, scarcely daring to draw breath. Then 
slowly, with a little sigh, the slumberer turned, 
and lay upon her back with both hands resting 
limply on the rose-silk sheet. Faintly in the dim 
light the jade seal ring glistened. A-lu-te stared 
at it fascinated. This was the ring which would 
save Fen-Sha. Would it slip off easily, or would 
she have to coax it, gently, persistently, before it 
consented to leave that small, tapering finger? 
Would the Old Buddha awaken, alert to what 
was passing? 

Chou-Chau gave a feeble little hack; even in her 
sleep she tried to suppress the cough. The sound 
startled A-lu-te; she determined to hesitate no 
longer. She dipped her fingers in the ointment the 
slave-girls had used, and softly smeared the fore- 
finger of the Empress Dowager’s right hand. 
Then, with a touch so delicate it might have been 
a butterfly poising on a flower, her fingers closed 
upon the ring. Slowly, carefully, she drew it 
upward. Suddenly she stopped, crouching on the 
floor. Someone behind her had moved. What if 
the eunuchs were not asleep, but only feigning? 
They were cunning like most of their kind; that 
one of them at least would show himself malevolent 
toward her, she did not doubt, for he it was who 
had been so terribly whipped because he had 
failed to escort her from the Palace the day of her 
arrival. 

Furtively she turned to look at him. His mouth 
had dropped open; his head hung limply on his 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 207 


shoulders. He was fast asleep, she could not 
doubt it. 

She rose and again began gently to slide the 
ring upward; the ointment helped to move it 
easily. The next minute A-lu-te held the Empress 
Dowager’s private seal in her hand. She drew 
from the bosom of her dress, where she had kept it 
hidden, the paper on which she had written in 
vermilion ink the order for Fen-Sha’s immediate 
release from prison. She trembled so violently, she 
feared she would drop the ring. Clutching it 
tightly in her small fist, she crept noiselessly to the 
sandalwood cabinet where were kept the brushes, 
ink, writing material, and wax of the Great Old 
Buddha. Here she affixed the seal to her paper. 
A thrill of triumph passed over her, only to leave 
her cold again. The ring must be slipped back to 
its soft resting-place; the six eunuchs in the outer 
room must be passed, and swiftly, unseen, unheard, 
she must make her way to the appointed place — ■ 
the old green and yellow pagoda, standing beyond 
the Wilderness Park near the western walls of the 
Palace inclosure, where the American was waiting 
for her. Not once did she doubt his answer to her 
summons. She tucked the paper back into her 
bosom, then glided with the silent movements of a 
feline thing to the imperial bed. So intent had she 
become, not to rouse sovereign or servants, she 
failed to notice the Empress Dowager had turned 
again in her sleep and lay with her left hand upper- 
most. Very carefully, very gently, A-lu-te tried 


2o8 The Breath of the Dragon 


to slip the ring back upon its finger. The ring 
seemed suddenly, incomprehensibly, to have grown 
smaller; half-way on the finger, it refused to 
descend farther. Full of consternation, A-lu-te 
removed it and, not knowing what else to do, fear- 
ing to linger longer, she placed the ring on the 
second finger, then stole swiftly to the door. 
Only a few flying hours remained to her, before 
the Palace world would be awake. Chou-Chau 
coughed again. At that moment A-lu-te could 
have strangled her to prevent another sound 
escaping from those sick, drawn lips. With one 
parting glance behind her, A-lu-te raised the silken 
portieres and stepped softly into the outer room 
where the six eunuchs lay stretched on the marble 
floor. She passed them boldly. Should they 
wake and see her, she would whisper that she was 
seeking a lotion to stop the Lady Chou-Chau ’s 
coughing, lest it disturb the Great Old Buddha. 
But she had no need of explanation, the six stal- 
wart guardians of the imperial bedroom did not 
see or hear her. 

Out in the blue night at last! The darkness 
engulfed her; she could not see a hand’s breadth 
before her. She stood quite still, accustoming her 
eyes to this blackness. Then slowly, one by one, 
she discerned the phantom forms of trees, of 
shrubbery, looming vaguely forth in the night. 
She groped her way around the pavilion to the 
marble balustrade, where the white steps led down 
to the lake. The tall, slender arch surmounting 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 209 


the steps and which in the daytime looked gaily 
picturesque with its brilliant colouring, resembled 
now a dark and threatening portal leading to some 
dread abyss. 

At the foot of the steps, a small imperial barge 
lay moored. Groping for the yellow rope, A-lu-te 
unfastened it, and springing into the barge, seized 
the long pole and pushed out into the lake. 

The friendly stars were shining down on her. 
The world somehow seemed less dark upon the 
water. Fen-Sha had often told her that the bril- 
liant little star gleaming so gaily among her dim- 
mer sister stars was Chih Nu (Lyra), the patron of 
weaving. Chih Nu would guide her safely across 
the lake, for was not weaving a domestic art 
and would not its heavenly patron prove kindly 
to a poor maiden seeking to save her lover? And 
up there somewhere in the blue mysterious vault 
dwelt also the God of the foreigner. He had 
helped her so far, surely he would not desert her 
now! The gods always seemed nearer at night, 
more ready to comfort, to protect those who 
prayed to them. 

A-lu-te dipped the long pole in the lake and 
pushed with all her strength. She had to reach 
a little wooded island which was connected by a 
long marble bridge to the mainland on the opposite 
shore. Once there, the rest was easy. She had 
but to skirt the Wilderness Park till she came to the 
green and yellow pagoda at the farther end. S’ang 
had described the place minutely to her; she could 
u 


210 


The Breath of the Dragon ~ 


not fail to find it. No guards were there; they 
were in groups of four and six by the palace gates 
and at the entrance of every court. Had the barge 
not been in its accustomed place, she could not 
have left the court of the imperial pavilion without 
a challenge. 

Everything had been in her favour tonight. 
Even the poling was less difficult than she had 
feared; perhaps Chih Nu was aiding her, or per- 
haps it was the God of the foreigners. These 
thoughts lent strength to A-lu-te’s arms. She 
reached the island and leaping ashore attached the 
yellow rope of the barge firmly to a tree. Then 
she sped over the bridge to the mainland. She 
skirted the Wilderness Park, and led by an unerring 
instinct, ran tirelessly, swiftly on, till she came to 
the green and yellow pagoda standing close to the 
great gloomy wall, a colossal black serpent encir- 
cling the Summer Palace. 

She picked up a tiny stone and, throwing it over 
the wall, waited with raised hand, breathless, like 
a statue. No sound reached her from the other 
side. 

Till now she had allowed no doubt to enter her 
mind that Follingsbee would not be there. But 
as she listened in vain for an answering pebble, a 
palsy of fear assailed her. If, after all, this for- 
eigner, this college friend of Fen-Sha, whom she 
had been told to trust implicitly, had failed her 
at the crucial moment ! She threw a second stone, 
then a third, without result. In the silence of the 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 21 1 

night she suddenly heard a faint scraping sound, 
then something dangled loosely from the wall 
above her. It was a rope ladder. The next 
moment a man was clambering down. 

“I have come,” he whispered. 

A-lu-te caught her breath sharply and peered 
into his face. 

“It is you then?” she asked, and added exult- 
ingly . “You have kept your promise to come to me, 
no matter when or where I sent for you!” 

“Yes,” said Follingsbee quietly; “how can I 
help you?” 

She took from her gown the paper and handed 
it to him. ‘ ‘ It has the Empress Dowager’s private 
seal affixed to an order to release Fen-Sha without 
delay,” she told him. 

“Good, ” exclaimed Follingsbee. “I have ma- 
ligned her; she is after all a kinder-hearted, better 
woman than I took her to be. ” 

“She is all you took her to be and more,” re- 
turned the girl bitterly, “or would I have to steal 
out in the night to ask aid of a stranger, of a 
foreigner?” 

Follingsbee let his friendly eyes rest upon her, 
“A foreigner, yes — a stranger, no— for can the 
friend of your betrothed be called a stranger?” 

“You have spoken true,” she answered. 

He did not ask her how she had obtained the 
order for the release of Fen-Sha; that she had it 
was sufficient for the present. It behooved him 
now to get her safely back to Peking. “Come,” 


212 


The Breath of the Dragon 


he whispered hurriedly, “let us hasten. My 
horse is hidden in a grove of trees below. I have 
brought a long cloak and a boy’s cap for you ; in the 
dark you will not be recognized as a woman. You 
will ride; I will lead the horse. I will engage a 
house-boat outside the city walls at a place I 
know of. Your old amah will be waiting there. 
You will travel as a sick foreigner in my care — no 
one shall see you — in two days we will be in Tien- 
tsin. The boatmen willbe well paid to make them 
hurry. ” 

A-lu-te did not move. * ‘ Come, ’ ’ urged Follings- 
bee, “we must hasten. ” 

“You have said it,” she returned, “we must 
hasten; you to Tientsin — I to the Palace. ” 

“To the Palace, ’ ’ exclaimed Follingsbee ; * ‘ surely 
you do not mean to return to the Palace!” 

A-lu-te averted her face lest he see the wild 
longing which was there to fly with him, straight 
to the shelter of her lover’s arms. If for a moment 
she faltered, it was for a moment only. She would 
not hinder by her presence the speed of his journey 
to Tientsin. An hour, a half-hour, even fifteen 
minutes delay might mean the difference of life 
or death to Fen-Sha. 

“Listen,” she said quickly and with emphasis. 
“The Senior Secretary of the Hing Pu is even now 
on his way to Tientsin with the Empress Dowager’s 
decree, commanding Fen-Sha’s immediate execu- 
tion. You must be the first to arrive. Before 
another night sets in Fen-Sha must be outside the 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 213 

prison gates, or all hope of saving him is lost.” 
In a few graphic words she told him of the scene in 
the Audience Hall between the Empress Dowager 
and the Senior Secretary. 

“When did the Senior Secretary leave Peking?” 
demanded Follingsbee. 

“He had audience with her early in the morning; 
she ordered him to travel to Tientsin immediately.” 

“How did he go?” 

“ I do not know, but he is an old man and cannot 
ride, nor would he travel by mule-litter, for that 
is slow; he would go by water; you yourself have 
said the journey can be made in two days and he 
has more than twelve hours’ start of you. ” Her 
voice grew sharp with the fearful anxiety of that 
thought. “A boat will not help us now. You 
must ride, ” she warned him. For a long moment 
Follingsbee made no reply. He was engaged in a 
calculation of time and distance. A-lu-te mistook 
his silence. With a gust of passion she seized 
his arm, forgetting the training which taught her 
that the mere touching of a man’s hand was an 
act of such immodesty no maiden of good repute 
would be guilty of it. ‘ ‘ Speak ! ’ ’ she cried, shaking 
him. “Speak, and tell me at once you are afraid 
to enter this race against the Senior Secretary, 
afraid to do what I, a helpless woman, will do, if 
you refuse. ” 

Follingsbee spoke then, but as one continuing 
a line of thought aloud: “Eighty miles of land road 
between Peking and Tientsin. The English have 


214 


The Breath of the Dragon 


a tradition that once long ago Sir Harry Parkes 
covered that distance in a single day. ” 

“And what he did, you also can do — you so big, 
so strong! Is it not so?” She was close to him, 
looking up in his face with tender glowing eyes; 
the shrillness gone from her voice, which was as 
soft, sweet, alluring as that of a lovely child 
coaxing for what it wants. 

Follingsbee started. He suddenly became aware 
of what heretofore he had been all unconscious, 
namely, that this slender Manchu young woman 
was not only beautiful, but seductive, compelling, 
fascinating. It was as if a strong light suddenly 
shone down upon her, and he saw for the first 
time the languorous lids of her dark eyes; the soft 
red of her lips like a double carnation; the oval of 
her tender cheeks. She drew closer to him. The 
faint fragrance of the scent-bags at her waist 
seemed to become stronger. The stillness around 
was intense; only now and again the breath of the 
south wind sighed past them. The little hands 
which had clutched him in a passion of anger but a 
moment since now lay lightly on his arms like two 
white doves at rest. He could feel the soft warmth 
of them through his sleeve. 

“You will help me, will you not ? ” she whispered. 
“See, it is such a little thing I ask, only a swift ride, 
over-long perhaps for some, but not for you who 
are no weakling, but a man such as woman has 
ever loved since man and woman first were 
made; a man to whom she turns when danger 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 215 


threatens, as naturally as a bird seeks its nest at 
sundown. ” 

Standing there under the stars alone with her, 
feeling the throbbing of her heart against his own, 
Follingsbee could have sworn that there was not 
another woman in the world comparable to her. 
He did not know the Empress Dowager, so his 
fascinated fancy carried him back to seek through 
long centuries another woman who had dwelt upon 
the banks of the green Nile, a woman whose name 
alone possessed the power of invoking love and 
desire. Betty, with all her sweet young freshness, 
had never made him feel like this. Indeed to 
Betty he gave no thought. A musician hearing 
in the valley an orchestra play superbly, does not 
stop to listen to the sweet piping of a shepherd’s 
flute upon the hillside. 

* 1 You will not refuse ? ’ ’ She lifted her drooping 
eyelids to his face. He bent his head to hers. 
Their eyes met; Follingsbee, startled at what he 
saw, drew back. It was as if the cover of a well 
had been swiftly raised and he gazed down into the 
luminous depths, not of her soul, but the soul of all 
womankind and saw that which lies there like a 
bird of beautiful plumage, white, iridescent, pure, 
the bird of unselfish love, which never stirs unless 
roused by the voice, be it ever so faint, of some 
special soul calling, the voice it may be of a child, 
of a parent, brother, sister, husband, or lover; 
then it starts, * flutters its wonderful wings, and 
flies upward; no obstacle, however great, can bar 


The Breath of the Dragon 


216 

the way; it goes forth to live, to die, it matters 
not which, for the soul who summoned it from 
it's slumbers. Abashed, awestruck, Follingsbee 
turned away. No words were needed to tell him 
that this girl, young, beautiful, alluring, whose 
palpitating heart had been pressed against his 
own, whose warm lips were whispering to him in 
the silent night, had not given even a passing 
thought to the man by her side ; she was thinking of 
one in a Chinese prison, many miles away. 

“You will go?” she asked. 

“Yes. ” 

He knew his pony to be already utterly fagged 
with the fourteen miles* hard, swift run that night, 
and he knew too that good ponies were difficult 
to procure in Peking even after long and careful 
searching and impossible to find in the poverty- 
steeped villages on the plains between the Summer 
Palace and the capital. Yet, in spite of this 
knowledge, he promised, and he intended to make 
good that promise. 

“Before the moon ripens, Fen-Sha shall be free, ” 
he said. 

A-lu-te clasped her hands in an ecstasy of hope, 
fear, and longing. “Oh, go then, go swiftly, now, 
this very minute,” she urged. The words were 
scarcely spoken when from the deep shadow of the 
trees in the Wilderness Park emerged two white- 
robed figures bearing torches, and after them two 
more, and again two, and still others, a long pro- 
cession, silently advancing towards them. Fol- 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 217 


lingsbee felt a cold chill creep over him, such as 
he had not experienced in the bitterest winter- 
weather on the Gobi desert. He heard A-lu-te 
whisper, “Eunuchs.” 

The name stands for the most depraved, the 
most sinister figures of Chinese history. 

Follingsbee darted a swift look towards the rope 
ladder dangling from the wall barely ten feet away. 
He could reach it easily before the eunuchs, even 
if they saw him, could stop him. But not so 
A-lu-te, and to leave her now was not to be con- 
sidered an instant. When he turned towards the 
approaching eunuchs again he saw that four 
among them were carrying a coffin. They had 
come then, not because they knew of his presence, 
but to conduct a midnight burial. 

A-lu-te plucked his sleeve, and, without speaking, 
pointed to the pagoda near which they were stand- 
ing. In large niches in the sides of the building 
were painted wooden images of Buddha seated 
cross-legged on lotus leaves. Three of these 
niches, on the first tier, were empty; their images 
had been destroyed when the great sack of the 
Summer Palace occurred many years before and 
had never been replaced. In an instant Follings- 
bee understood A-lu-te’s meaning. Quick as had 
been her thought he swung her up. to one of the 
empty niches, then seated himself, cross-legged, in 
another. 

Nearer and nearer came the silent procession. 
Would it pass the pagoda? Would the light of the 


2l8 


The Breath of the Dragon 


torches fall on the girl and himself, seated stiff, 
immovable, like graven images in the niches? 
Would the eunuchs see them? What his fate 
would be in that event gave him no concern, but 
he shuddered at the thought of A-lu-te, dragged 
back to the Palace, and of what would befall her 
there. In the tea-houses, many were the terrible 
tales he had listened to concerning the fate of 
girls who tried to escape from the Imperial Palace, 
when life had become too dreadful to be borne. 

How slowly the white-robed procession moved! 
He could scarcely endure the tension longer. 
Nearer and nearer came the ghostly figures, walk- 
ing with long, soft strides like animals ; the torches 
flickered fitfully ; the smell of their smoke filled the 
air. He controlled an almost irresistible impulse 
to lean forward to look at A-lu-te, to give her some 
sign of encouragement; but the torches were very 
near to them now; the least movement could be 
seen, did some eunuch chance to raise his eyes to 
the pagoda. Within a few yards of the pagoda 
the procession suddenly halted. The torches were 
stuck in the ground half encircling a deep hole, 
which Follingsbee now saw was a newly made grave. 
The eunuchs ranged themselves on each side of the 
grave. 

The flickering light of the torches illumined their 
faces. For a moment Follingsbee forgot the girl’s 
peril and his own in the study of these strange 
spectres of men. Many of them were tall, most 
of them were flabby, whether old or young it was 


A Desperate Midnight Venture r 219 


difficult to determine; the faces of some were 
withered, yet gave a strange impression of youth, 
of depraved youth struck by the hand of time into 
old age, in a single night. Their mouths were 
loose, their countenances expressionless or terribly 
weary; here and there among them were those who 
showed a ferocity in their looks that was unlike 
anything human, as if they wanted to howl, or 
bite or spit in the face of mankind. 

Suddenly the mournful death chant of the Bud- 
dhist priests broke the night-silence. First low, 
then swelling in volume to louder, clearer, and 
stronger tones, the chant rose to its highest pitch; 
then slowly it descended and softly sank to a 
whispering sigh, only to rise again in crescendo, 
strong, full-throated, vibrant, and again to descend 
till it became but a whispering breath before ceas- 
ing altogether. Then the white-robed mourners 
took up the death-chant in a long, low, wailing 
cry which rising higher and higher culminated in 
a wild and horrible shriek which slowly died away 
in a sobbing sigh. The last wail died on the night 
air. The eunuchs took up their torches and, 
silently as they had come, disappeared in the 
Wilderness Park. Follingsbee heaved a sigh of 
relief. His limbs were cramped; he found diffi- 
culty in moving them. When the faint glimmer 
of the last torch was lost in the darkness, he 
slipped to the ground. * ‘ A-lu-te, ’ ’ he called softly, 
while his eyes still guardedly watched the park. 
Receiving no reply he turned quickly and looked 


220 


The Breath of the Dragon 


up. The niche into which he had swung A-lu-te 
was empty and he realized that she had daringly 
made her escape unobserved while the eunuchs 
were gathered around the grave intent upon their 
death wail. It was futile to wait in the vain hope 
of her return. He had intended reasoning with her 
on her resolution to remain in the Palace instead 
of making good her escape when the opportunity 
offered. He clambered up the rope-ladder and 
dropped to the oth^r side of the wall. Then he 
hastened to the clump of trees on the hillside 
where his horse was tethered. The tired beast 
Was standing with low-hanging head, too exhausted 
to graze. It was soon apparent to Follingsbee that 
his horse had not the strength left to even carry 
him. Half-dragging and leading the animal, he 
descended into the plain, avoiding the soldiers’ 
village on the right, which he would again have 
been forced to skirt had he directed his steps 
Peking-ward. He determined instead to make his 
way somehow to Tung-chou. Once he was per- 
suaded that in so doing he was wrong, that his 
best, if not his only chance of reaching Tientsin 
before the Senior Secretary was to hasten back 
to Peking, await the opening of the gates, and go 
directly to the Inspectorate, rouse Sir Robert Hart, 
who alone could authorize the use of the pony- 
express which carried the mail overland. That 
the “I. G. ” (as the Inspector-General of the Im- 
perial Maritime Customs was commonly called) 
would not grant this extraordinary favour without 


A Desperate Midnight Venture 221 


being fully informed of the reasons for such a 
demand Follingsbee knew, and he had grave doubts 
whether even then he would not meet with an 
emphatic refusal. For the affair had a political 
side impossible to ignore, and the “I. G. ” was not 
the man to assist in an enterprise which might 
imperil the existence of any part of the great 
institution he had spent the best part of his life 
in perfecting and controlling. 

Follingsbee reflected, as he dragged his weary 
horse along, that, if he could reach Tung-chou, he 
might make shift somehow to secure fresh mounts 
along the much-tra veiled highroad to Tientsin. 

The sky, which had been unclouded and pierced 
by brilliant stars, became overcast. The wind 
rose and with it came one of those sudden driving 
rainstorms prone to occur at this season of the 
year. 

Follingsbee had scarcely time to realize his 
predicament before he was soaked to the skin. 
Not far off, a fire leapt suddenly into life. He had 
come upon a small encampment. Two tents 
rose before him. He approached the larger one, 
raised the flap, and boldly entered. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE RACE 

Smoke filled the interior of the tent. Follings- 
bee felt stifled, his eyes blinked vainly in an effort 
to see. He coughed, choked, and groping hastily 
for the flap, raised it again. A loud, good-natured 
laugh issued from the rear of the canvas house and 
through the smoke Follingsbee saw a man squat- 
ting by the fire drying his clothes. His flat face, 
prominent cheek-bones, and sunken forehead pro- 
claimed him a Mongol. 

“Enter, Brother, enter!” he called in a shrill, 
harsh voice, which yet had a tone of hearty wel- 
come in it. “Cannot your eyes and nose endure 
a little smoke? See, mine are not so large and so 
fine to look at as yours, but for all that they serve 
me better. ” 

Again the rollicking laugh echoed through the 
tent. 

“Your heart is large, Brother, and your wit not 
small. I will gladly sit with you awhile, but let 
it be near the door that I may draw breath enough 
to talk.” And suiting the action to the words, 
Follingsbee seated himself by the tent-flap. The 
222 


The Race 


223 


Mongol nodded. “I heard you coming this long 
time past. It is slow travelling, dragging^ beast 
that was meant to carry you, ” he said calmly. 

Although Follingsbee knew that Mongols have 
the sense of sight, hearing, and smell developed to 
an extraordinary degree, his host’s remark left him 
gaping in amazement. 

The Mongol, aware of the hit he had made, 
opened his wide mouth in a laugh which drowned 
for the nonce the roar of the storm. His gaiety 
was spontaneous, therefore contagious. Follings- 
bee found himself laughing whole-heartedly with 
him. 

“Is my Brother travelling to Peking?” the 
Mongol asked when his merriment had subsided. 

“Not so, to Tung-chou. ” 

“That is my sorrow — we could have kept the 
road together. I go to Peking when the dawn 
breaks. Is it your purpose to drag your beast all 
the way to Tung-chou? The lis are many. ” 

“It is true, Brother, the lis are many when the 
beast’s strength is gone, but, with a good animal, 
fleet-footed and strong, such as my Brother will 
sell me ere we part, the distance is less than 
nothing. ” 

It was the Mongol who now looked his surprise. 

“The beasts I have with me are needed; I have 
none to spare, none to sell. ” 

“I have heard, and I believe it true, that those 
who dwell in the Land of Grass “ (Mongolia) ” are 
hospitable to strangers and quick to relieve their 


224 


The Breath of the Dragon 


distress. " Follingsbee left his position by the 
tent-flap as he spoke and seated himself beside 
his host. 

“What is the nature of your distress, Brother?" 
asked the little Mongol, with quick interest, for 
he, like all his people, dearly loved a personal 
narrative. 

Follingsbee, aware of this trait, told a long tale 
of a sick and dying friend, whose life depended on a 
medicine he, Follingsbee, had obtained from one 
who in turn had it from a living Buddha. But the 
medicine, added Follingsbee, would lose its efficacy 
if not taken within the next fourteen hours and his 
friend must die if he did not reach him before the 
expiration of that time. 

“A living Buddha!" exclaimed the Mongol; 
“where dwells he?" 

“Close by — in the Western hills. " 

“That is but a few short lis from here ! I will to 
him myself, such medicine is good to have. Who 
knows but that some day I too may be stricken 
with the same sickness of which your friend is 
dying! Yes, yes, I will put off going to Peking at 
dawn, though I fear I may thereby be too late to 
see the Lama Bokte who is to manifest his power at 
the midday hour. Many pilgrims will be there to 
witness the great marvel. But the preservation 
of my life is a more important matter to me." 
The Mongol’s voice had taken on a feeble tone as 
of one who is about to give up the ghost. The 
mere thought that he might some day be smitten 


The Race 


225 


with this unknown sickness and die of it unless he 
had the living Buddha medicine, had suddenly 
alarmed him. His round, ruddy face and robust 
appearance were so ill in accord with the feeble 
pipe of his new voice, that Follingsbee with 
difficulty restrained his laughter. 

“Listen, my Brother/’ he said. “My friend 
contracted this sickness while in a foreign country 
which lies far beyond the seas to the West. Only 
those who travel to that land become smitten with 
the disease, therefore have no fear, you are quite 
safe, for you have never journeyed there.” 

“Thanks be to Buddha for that!” exclaimed the 
Mongol fervently. 

He pullecta Buddhist rosary from his pocket and 
began to chant the six-syllable prayer of Tibet and 
Mongolia, “Om mani padme houm. Om mani 
padme houm,” over and over again, twisting and 
turning his beads the while. 

Follingsbee waited patiently until the Mongol 
had concluded his oraisons, then he asked mildly: 

“And now, Brother, you will sell me your horse, 
will you not?” 

“That I will!” returned the little man cordially, 
“but first we will feast. When the stomach is 
full, the journey is short.” He rose, stepped to 
the tent-door, and called lustily. From the 
adjoining tent a sleepy voice answered; a few 
minutes later a young boy entered carrying a large 
pot which he placed over the fire. 

“The food is cooked, it will not take long to heat 
is 


226 


The Breath of the Dragon 


it, ” said the Mongol. And so it proved. In a 
short time the boy plunged his hands in the boiling 
pot and threw on the board, which served them 
for a table, a mass of the most disgusting looking 
victuals Follingsbee had ever seen. It was the 
intestines of a sheep, the spleen, bowels, liver, heart, 
and kidneys, stuffed with blood and meal and 
retaining much of the appearance seen in the live 
animal. 

The Mongol twisted off a piece of the bowels and 
began eating with unction, inviting Follingsbee at 
the same time to do likewise. Controlling the 
nausea which threatened to assail him, Follings- 
bee helped himself to a portion of the liver. The 
boy in the meantime pounded salt between two 
stones and with this adjunct to their meal, Fol- 
lingsbee found his appetite became less squeamish. 

Although unable to keep pace with his host and 
the latter’s boy in the matter of devouring large 
quantities of the food, he managed to make fair 
inroads upon his portion. While they ate, the 
Mongol talked volubly. 

“This turning of night into day, my Brother, 
always pleases my humour, when I take the road 
to Peking. Ay, ay, that is a city for the gay and 
young! Famous times I have had there! As to 
dice and drink and the pleasures of the heart, I 
think I can boast of having enjoyed as much of 
them as another. ” 

“Do you take the road to Peking often?” in- 
quired Follingsbee, stolidly strugglingwith his meat. 


The Race 


227 


“Formerly yes — but seldom now, alas! I could 
tell you tales of my exploits there ! There was one 
— the Moon-formed she was called — I remember 
I met her when I journeyed to the capital with the 
retinue of the Tartar Prince Ta-Pou. We were 
bringing an immense supply of pomatum made of 
pheasants’ eggs to the Yellow City. The Western 
Empress Tzu Hsi used it to impart that peculiar 
and renowed lustre to her hair, formerly so much 
admired by An Te hai. Little Moon-formed and 
I were ” 

“Who was An Te hai?” asked Follingsbee, inter- 
rupting the narrative. He feared the love ex- 
ploits of the Mongol and his little Moon-formed 
would be both long and wearisome to listen 
to. 

The Mongol looked at him and laughed. “Na- 
ture gave us one tongue and two ears, so that we 
could hear twice as much as we speak. You are 
a man grown and yet till now it seems have made 
small use of your ears, since you do not know about 
this An Te hai. Well, I will tell you what every 
frequenter of tea-houses knows. An Te hai was a 
false eunuch in the Yellow City and beloved by 
the Empress Tzu Hsi. After the Emperor Hsien- 
Feng ascended the Dragon Throne on high, An Te 
hai ruled China, because he was supreme in the 
Palace. He wore the dragon robes sacred to the 
use of emperors and Tzu Hsi gave him the jade 
ju-ji before all the Court. She bore him a child, 
some say a son, others declare it was a daughter, 


228 The Breath of the Dragon 


but no one knows with certainty, for the scandal 
became so great the Empress was alarmed, and 
the infant was smuggled from the Palace one 
night and the story of its birth vigorously denied. 
But Prince Kung, the watch-dog of the Throne, 
knew the danger of such scandals to the power of 
the Manchu Dynasty. He bided his time and it 
came ere long. The extravagance of Tzu Hsi 
and her lover had so diminished her funds, she 
allowed him to go on a special mission to Shantung 
to collect tribute in her name, a proceeding without 
precedence and most illegal. No sooner had this 
arrogant and presumptuous false eunuch arrived 
in Shantung, than Prince Kung sought a private 
audience with the Eastern Empress, a weak and 
timorous woman. He persuaded her, though 
with difficulty, to sign a decree commanding the 
summary decapitation of her powerful colleague’s 
favourite, and it is said she wept bitterly as she 
appended her signature, declaring she would surely 
be killed for her temerity. Well, An Te hai lost 
his head — it was a handsome one— and the Eastern 
Empress died suddenly a few years later, so were 
her. fears fulfilled. The Western Empress has 
reigned alone ever since. She is a great woman, is 
the Old Buddha, a woman of action, of impulse, 
of sentiment. She has her faults, but which of 
us have not? Assuredly I, my Brother, am not 
without them. ” 

The Mongol seemed suddenly to have fallen 
into a melancholy mood. He sighed frequently 


The Race 


229 


and every now and again murmured his prayer, 
Om mani padme houm ! ’ ’ 

“You are sad, Brother ; what afflicts you? ” asked 
Follingsbee. 

The Mongol took a vigorous pinch of snuff. 

“The reptile!” he answered, heaving another 
sigh. 

“The reptile!” exclaimed Follingsbee, involun- 
tarily casting his eyes around the tent. 

“Yes, even so, for my demerits are indeed great.” 
And again the ruddy little man, near to bursting 
with the amount of food he had consumed, sighed 
volcanically. 

“Explain yourself, Brother, while we go to look 
at the horse you will sell me,” said Follingsbee 
rising. He was anxious to be off. 

“Seat yourself, seat yourself, my Brother. 
When Midchou has scraped the pot and boiled 
the water for tea, he will bring the beast here. 
Are you a Taoist then? For it seems you are not 
a Buddhist, or you would know that the reptile I 
spoke of belongs to the six classes in which all 
living beings are divided. The first class is angels, 
then men, demons, quadrupeds, birds, and reptiles. 
Living beings, by continual transformation, ac- 
cording to their virtues, or their sins, pass about 
in these six classes until they reach the apex of 
perfection, when they become absorbed in the 
immensity of Buddha, whence emanate all souls 
and wherein all souls are destined after attaining 
perfection to return. Now, I have been lax in 


230 


The Breath of the Dragon 


many things and above all in the matter of saying 
prayers, for those who repeat the sacred six sylla- 
bles devoutly and often, escape the baser trans- 
formation and are nearer the great Essence of 
Buddha. ” 

The Mongol drew forth his rosary and began 
again to chant, “Om mani padme houm!” 

Follingsbee rose softly and lifted the tent-flap. 
The storm had ceased, the first streaks of dawn 
were creeping rosily up in the horizon. Before 
this day, just begun, was ended, he must be in 
Tientsin; two lives depended upon accomplishing 
a ride of eighty miles over wretched roads between 
the rising and the setting of the sun, for something 
told him that A-lu-te, the brave and beautiful 
Manchu maiden, would refuse to survive her 
lover. His own horse lay dead a few short paces 
off. Should the Mongol’s horse prove to be fleet, 
and of that he had no doubts, for the swiftness of 
Mongolian beasts was common knowledge, he yet 
had no chance of reaching Tientsin in time without 
the aid of a relay of fast horses. How to obtain 
them he did not know. 

The boy passed him carrying the big pot. 
Follingsbee followed him to the tent where the 
Mongol’s animals were sheltered. There were 
three horses and a great Bactrian camel, its forelegs 
folded under its body, its long neck stretched out 
before it on the ground. It looked like a mon- 
strous snail of some prehistoric time. 

He approached the horses and examined them 


The Race 


231 


with keen interest. They were not much to look 
at; one of them, as if divining his thought, bit at 
him viciously. 

“Beware, Brother, that one has the temper of a 
demon; but he runs well.” 

Follingsbee turned quickly to find the Mongol 
behind him. 

“What distance can he travel, running all the 
while?” he asked his host. 

The little man stroked his thin beard. “That 
depends, that depends; I have known the beast 
to keep neck and shoulder with my Lla for thirty 
Us before he began to lag. No other beast has 
done it.” 

“Where and what is Lla?” inquired Follingsbee 
curiously. 

“My camel yonder. She is of the racing breed ; 
she goes like the wind and never tires.” 

Follingsbee started violently. He had heard of 
these racing camels ; they could outrun the swiftest 
horse and were known to have covered two hun- 
dred and forty lis in a day. Now two hundred 
and forty lis was eighty miles and Tientsin was 
eighty miles away! Here was the solution to 
his problem. Surely Providence had guided him 
to the Mongol’s tent that night. “Brother,” he 
said endeavouring to speak quietly, “I will buy 
the camel.” 

“Buy Lla! Not the Old Buddha herself, 
before whom all men prostrate themselves and 
say, when she so commands, water is dry land 


22)2 The Breath of the Dragon 

and dry land is water, not even she can buy my 

Liar 

“But my sick friend, Brother! Think of my 
friend who will die if I give him not the medicine 
before the night comes round again !” pleaded 
Follingsbee. 

“Take the two horses — they are yours for a little 
money. But Lla is the darling of my heart, I 
will not sell her,” replied the Mongol firmly. 

Follingsbee was however determined to obtain 
the camel. He tried every argument, every per- 
suasion to induce the Mongol to part with his 
cherished beast. He even promised to pay full 
value for the camel and return her in four days, 
but Lla’s owner remained obdurate. 

Finally, Follingsbee hit upon an expedient which 
promised success; he remembered that Mongols, 
like Chinese, are all fond of games of chance and of 
betting. Follingsbee broke into a loud laugh. 
“I see how it is with you, Brother; I will buy the 
horses, for it is quite plain to me that your precious 
Lla is no good; she cannot run fifty lis a day.” 

“Not run fifty Its!" shouted the Mongol. “I 
tell you Lla has run two hundred lis a day, nay, 
more, she has run three hundred lis. Your talk 
is contrary to good sense and truly ridiculous.” 

“Nevertheless that is my conviction, for why 
did you decline so reasonable a chance to show her 
speed? I offer you the purchase money besides 
agreeing to return her within the week. You have 
boasted overmuch and now are ashamed because 


The Race 


233 


your little Brother has found you out!” And 
Follingsbee let his laughter ring loud and long 
through the tent. The Mongol was beside himself 
with annoyance at the incredulity of his guest. 

“You know nothing about it. Your ignorance 
of camels is that of a child, a girl-child ! I tell you 
Lla can run three hundred lis in one day!” he 
roared. 

“And I tell you she cannot run thirty!” Fol- 
lingsbee came back at him, pretending to hold his 
sides with laughter. “ Look at her ! Look at her ! 
Now that my eyes are open to your jest, I can see 
that if my horse out there were not already dead, 
he could in dying have outpaced her. Why, I 
would have wagered you the sum I first offered on 
his doing it!” 

This was too much for the Mongol. 

“It is true your beast is dead, but let the wager 
stand, or rather make a new one. Ride Lla — if 
she runs not with you three hundred lis 1 this day, 
I will give her to you and the horses with her,” 
he roared again. “Come, put up your money — 
if you lose, you pay me twice over. ” 

“Agreed,” said Follingsbee quickly. He had 
provided himself with a large sum of money before 
riding to the Summer Palace in the event of need- 
ing it for bribing purposes or other emergencies. 
He now handed his host the required amount, 
shaking his head the while in pretended regret at 
the other’s reckless daring in betting on such a 

1 A li is about % of a mile. 


234 


The Breath of the Dragon 


wretched beast. The Mongol laughed heartily 
in his turn. “It is you, my Brother, who foolishly 
throws away good money. ” He became suddenly 
serious. “My conduct towards you has been 
irreproachable. Do I speak truth?” 

“You did indeed speak truth, my Brother,” 
replied Follingsbee earnestly, “and if I act not 
honestly in this matter may the curse of Heaven 
destroy me.” He drew from his vest pocket a 
gold repeating watch and presented it to the 
Mongol. “Take it, Brother, in token of my 
friendship ; it is a good watch and even in the dead 
of night, without a light, it will make known the 
hour to you if you so command. ” 

He answered the look of amazement and in- 
credulity on the little man’s face by explaining the 
mechanism of the watch which sounded the 
repeater. 

The Mongol was delighted ; watches he had often 
seen, but never one like this. “May the star of 
happiness guide you all your days,” he cried; “I 
leave you in confidence and with a joyful heart. 
When you return with Lla having lost your 
wager” — here his small eyes twinkled merrily, 
“you will find me at the inn of the Five Felicities, 
close to the Mongol market in Peking.” 

“Before the week is passed, Brother, Lla and I 
will be there. And now have the camel brought 
out that I may mount and be off. ” 

“Midchou!” cried the Mongol, “bring tea!” 
The boy appeared with a bumper of tea in which 


The Race 


^35 


floated a thick layer of butter, for the little Mongol 
had acquired in his travels a taste for Tibetan tea. 

Follingsbee had drunk of this concoction before; 
he gulped it down with a show of relish highly 
gratifying to his host. The camel was now led 
from the tent, made to kneel, and the clumsy saddle 
adjusted. 

4 'Avoid wet and marshy ground,” warned the 
Mongol; “stones, thorns, and roughness of what- 
ever nature are nothing to Lla’s feet, but in mud 
she staggers like a man who has drunk too deeply. ” 

Follingsbee seated himself in the saddle and 
having repeated the word of command which the 
Mongol had taught him to make the camel rise, 
he turned her nose south-eastward. Lla stretched 
her long neck, lifted her cushioned feet, and silently 
let loose her speed. 

The race had begun. 

Follingsbee heard the loud, triumphant laugh of 
the Mongol, then nothing more. He had the sen- 
sation of being on a ship caught in a fierce and 
sudden tempest ; he clung to the saddle as he might 
have clung to the mast to save himself from being 
cast overboard. Bruised, shaken, with a hideous 
feeling of having lost his breath, as if in truth he 
had been inundated by some great wave, he clung 
desperately to Lla’s heaving back. He had a con- 
fused consciousness of passing fields of kaoliang, 
mud villages where dogs ran out and barked fu- 
riously, and cemeteries hidden in tall groves of 
trees. The sun rose with glory in the eastern sky. 


236 The Breath of the Dragon 


The hills, plains, groves, and mud villages which 
shone pallidly became of a sudden illumined by a 
golden light glittering beneath the azure of the sky. 
It was as if the young day had suddenly thrown off 
the dark covering which had enveloped her and 
sprang, fresh, rosy, and smiling, from her couch. 

On and on flew Lla, her long strides making a 
speed no animal Follingsbee had known or ridden 
ever attained before. 

Gradually he became aware that the rocking, 
heaving motion beneath him did not vary; he 
began to accustom himself to the even tumultuous- 
ness of the animal’s gait, and was not forced to 
steady himself with frantic clinging to the saddle. 
He sat erect and noted with something akin to his 
usual intelligence the road Lla was taking. She 
had started south-eastward and had with the 
docility — some call it stupidity — of her race main- 
tained the same direction. In the distance, he 
saw a shining, twisting, threadlike thing lying 
across the landscape, like an elongated numeral 
eight. Was he nearing the banks of the great 
canal? Impossible! No canal ever curved back 
upon itself like that and no river either, except one 
— the Pei-ho! Follingsbee rose in his stirrups and 
shouted aloud. The Pei-ho! — the canal then lay 
behind him and Tung-chou too, for there was no 
sign of another waterway on the horizon where 
Tung-chou, the great pneumatic pump of Peking, 
would be. In his joy he leaned over and patted 
the camel’s neck. ‘ ‘ Good girl ! good girl ! ” he called. 


The Race 


237 


The “good girl” turned her head sideways 
without lessening her speed, curled back her hare- 
lip, and showed two rows of vicious-looking teeth. 
The sight caused Follingsbee quickly to relapse 
into his saddle. 

On and on went Lla, mile after mile, her gait 
unvaried, her speed undiminished. The wonder of 
it left her rider astounded; now they were on the 
banks of the Pei-ho, now traversing the great high- 
road frightening donkeys, mules, and horses. 
Follingsbee heard loud shouting, saw women in 
wheelbarrows jump from their humble conveyance 
and scurry out of his way and drivers of carts leave 
their charges to leap nimbly to one side. Every 
living creature, even the dogs who barked at him 
from the safe shelter of adjoining fields where they 
had taken refuge, fled before his approach. 

Only the Emperor’s advance guard could have 
cleared the great Peking and Tientsin highway 
more effectually than did Lla, the racing camel. 
On and on she went through crowded mud villages, 
small agglomerations of hideous hovels which 
looked as if thrown together by the giant hands of 
some Brobdingnagian infant. The frightened in- 
habitants fell pellmell over one another, or rushed 
to their doors to see the strange sight. By the 
height of the sun in the heavens, Follingsbee knew 
it was noon. He was aching in every bone in his 
body and consumed with a terrible thirst. Per- 
spiration fell from him in hot muddy streamlets, 
for he was covered with the dust and dirt of the 


238 The Breath of the Dragon 

country. His face was unrecognizable; he might 
have been a Mongol, a Chinese, or, except for his 
clothes, a native of distant India. A white man he 
certainly did not appear, and perhaps this fact 
saved him from assault on more than one occasion 
when the quagmire street of some exceptionally 
filthy village caused Lla to slip and slide, or to stop 
and convulsively gather her legs together and jump 
where the mud was deeper than she liked. In 
these nasty places, the stench was intolerable. 
Follingsbee shuddered at the thought of finding 
himself prostrate in the midst of the filth. The 
effort to retain his seat when Lla leaped required 
all his strength and, as he clasped the camel’s 
hump with both arms and glued his feet to her 
sides, the village people shrieked with delight at 
the spectacle he offered them. Out on the firm 
road again, his increased fatigue from these efforts 
made it seem well-nigh impossible to continue rid- 
ing the living, heaving mountain beneath him. 
He retained his seat only by an exertion which had 
become wholly mechanical. His eyes were blood- 
shot; his nostrils, caked with dirt, quivered inces- 
santly ; his mouth gaped wide for breath. He no 
longer took note of time or space; his entire mind 
was absorbed in one thought, that of keeping 
on Lla’s back. Once he heard someone saying, 
'‘Why am I here? Where am I going?” The 
spoken words had the effect of rousing him from 
the semi-stupor into which he had fallen. The 
highroad was again skirting the sinuous Pei-hoJ 


The Race 


239 


junks of every shape and size were on the river. 
Here and there a house-boat glided by. Follings- 
bee suddenly remembered the Senior Secretary. 
Was his boat there too? One of them was of 
special size and beauty; Follingsbee looked anx- 
iously for the yellow flag which would be floating 
from the prow, denoting that the traveller was 
“upon the business of the Emperor.” But the 
pennant was red and white, and the boat was 
going Peking-ward. On the narrow little tow- 
path, slow-moving coolies bent double over the 
rope harnessed about their half-naked bodies 
were towing the heavy craft. By and by a bril- 
liant red glow coloured land and river. Follings- 
bee’ s bloodshot eyes roamed wearily over the 
landscape to discover the conflagration. It was 
several minutes before his dazed brain understood 
that the glow had its origin not in a fire, but in the 
setting of the sun. God ! how late it was ! Was he 
near Tientsin? Had he still far to go? Would he 
arrive on time or was the Senior Secretary even 
now witnessing Fen-Sha’s execution? 

Lla’s long strides never changed, on and on she 
bounded, no signs of weariness apparent in her 
leaping gait. 

The red glow faded from land and sky. Twilight 
fell and still Lla’s gallop never faltered and still 
Tientsin was not in sight. The darkness gathered 
about them. Follingsbee’ s tongue clove to the 
roof of his mouth, his head sank lower and lower on 
his breast; his hands relaxed their hold upon the 


240 The Breath of the Dragon 

bridle; they no longer guided the camel. He 
seemed riding through chaos and abysses ; he knew 
nothing, saw nothing. Suddenly she stopped, her 
nose against a mud wall. With a supreme effort 
Follingsbee roused himself. He saw lights, men’s 
voices sounded near. He heard someone say, 
* 1 Does your beneficent shadow desire to descend 
at my humble inn tonight?” 

“What place is this?” he managed to articulate. 

“The inn of the *Blue Sea,’” came the answer. 

“ I-go-on-to-Tientsin, ” muttered Follingsbee 
thickly. 

“To Tientsin! Then you have not far to go, 
noble personage,” laughed the innkeeper, “for 
Tientsin is here and mine is the first house of repose, 
humble though it is, at this end of the town. 
Descend! descend! you may seek farther and fare 
worse; many innkeepers refuse shelter to such 
beasts as yours. Travellers with large retinues 
will not lodge where camels are; they have a 
stinking breath and their cry is raucous and mules 
and horses fear them.” 

Follingsbee heard only the first part of this 
speech and that acted like a stimulant to his ex- 
hausted body. He had reached Tientsin at last ! 

“Sok! Sok!” he said to the camel. 

The animal folded her legs under her huge body 
and slowly sank to the ground. Follingsbee 
slipped from her back, staggered, and fell forward 
on his face. 

Almost at the same moment, a chair passed, 


The Race 


241 

preceded by mafoos , shouting, “Lend me your 
eyes ! Lend me your eyes ! ’ * 

In the chair sat an old man. He was very tired 
and the rheumatism in his legs, he told himself with 
a wry face, had not been benefited by the two days’ 
river journey he had just completed. 

He was the Senior Secretary of the Hing Pu. 

16 


CHAPTER XVII 


OUTWITTED 

The innkeeper of the “Blue Sea” was a good- 

natured man. He was also a quick appraiser of 

each guest’s ability to pay. His trained eye saw 

that Lla was a camel of greater value than the best 

of the breed he had seen; nor did he fail to note 

* 

that the saddle was a handsome one. He enter- 
tained no doubt therefore that this man who lay 
like a log at his feet, who had arrived with no one 
in attendance upon him, would be able to pay 
whatever he chose to demand for the care and 
attention he was about to bestow on him. He 
summoned a servant. Together they helped 
Follingsbee to his feet and half carried, half 
dragged him into the large room of the inn and 
laid him on the brick K’ang, where four or five 
Chinese were already reclining. The room was 
dimly lighted by wicks floating in dirty oil in some 
half-dozen saucers. The innkeeper ordered his 
servant to fasten the camel to a stake in a corner 
of the court. 

“Lord of the soup kettle,” cried one of the men 
on the K’ang, leaning over to inspect Follingsbee’s 
243 


Outwitted 


243 


face curiously, “ Under what quarter of the 
heavens was this man born whom you have de- 
posited here like a sack of charcoal? His dress is 
Chinese, the dirt on his person is the dirt of a 
Tartar, and he reeks like a driver of camels. ” 

“Not a driver, but a rider of camels,” retorted 
the innkeeper, “and it matters little whence he 
came or what quarter of the heavens he was born 
in, since he is here and has a churl like you for a 
bed-fellow. ” 

“Governor of the meat pot, you lie, he is no 
bed-fellow of mine. ” With which remark the man 
doubled himself up like a jack-knife and shot his 
legs out again with astonishing force and vigour, 
thereby kicking Follingsbee from the K’ang into 
the middle of the room. At this nimble feat, the 
other guests set up a loud laugh, in which the 
landlord and his servants joined heartily. 

It is seldom a man has reason to be grateful for 
the administration of a kick to the centre of his 
back, or indeed to any portion of his anatomy. 
Had Follingsbee known the cause of his sudden 
return to consciousness he would probably have 
given expression to his sense of gratitude by a blow 
on the kicker’s head. As it was he only rolled over 
on the hard floor and sat up to stare about him in 
dazed bewilderment at his surroundings. Then 
his eyes lighted on the innkeeper. “Drink,” he 
tried to articulate, but his voice uttered no sound. 
In a corner of the apartment a guest was squatting 
before a small glazed earth oven on which rested a 


244 


The Breath of the Dragon 


kettle. He was absorbed in the preparation of his 
tea. Follingsbee rose, staggered towards him, and 
throwing a Mexican dollar in his lap, snatched 
from him the bowl he was about to raise to his 
lips. The tea was still boiling hot, but Follings- 
bee drank it down in one quick gulp. Everyone 
was surprised with the munificence of this man 
who could fling away silver coin for a dish of tea. 
The innkeeper hastened to his side, bowing and 
rubbing his hands. His manner was obsequious, 
his tones unctuous, “ Super-excellent gentleman, 
your servants have not yet appeared to prepare 
your meal and your noble stomach is no doubt 
demanding more substantial alimentation than 
tea. My humble larder is full; pray accept my 
trifling services as cook. Will you partake of 
sheep’s tail, chicken, or succulent pork?” 

Just then the piercing horrible screams of Lla 
were heard outside in the court. 

“Give my camel water and food and keep her 
until my return. Send a servant to fetch me a 
cart,” commanded Follingsbee huskily. He flung 
mine host of the Blue Sea some money and stag- 
gered into the court. While he waited for the cart, 
he watched Lla suck up long draughts of water 
from wooden buckets placed before her, and he 
envied the beast her length of throat which was 
so pleasantly getting moist and having its great 
thirst slaked. 

His own throat was still painfully parched, mak- 
ing his speech, when he essayed to talk, so thick 


Outwitted 


245 


and guttural, it was unlike the speech of foreigner 
or Chinese. 

A cart having finally been procured, the inn- 
keeper assisted Follingsbee to crawl into it, keeping 
up the while a steady stream of talk. “Distin- 
guished eminence, it is a weight upon my heart 
that you go from my miserable establishment ” 
(and miserable it surely was!) “without regaling 
your noble stomach with nourishment. Doubtless 
when you return to claim your magnificent camel, 
you will not disdain the humble repast of chicken, 
pork, and cakes I shall have prepared for you. 
Where shall I direct the cart man to drive you, most 
noble, transitory guest ?” 

The men in the inn had by this time gathered 
around the cart, idly curious to learn upon what 
pressing business this stranger, exhausted as he 
was, must needs repair without first taking reason- 
able rest. 

“The Yamen — let the mule gallop, ” commanded 
Follingsbee. 

“The Yamen!” they exclaimed in chorus, “he 
rides to the Yamen!” 

No man ever went to the Yamen at this hour, 
unless he were dragged there by lictors, or was one 
in authority. 

The curiosity of the men was more than satis- 
fied; they drew back in a half frightened, half 
deferential manner. But the young fellow who 
had assisted Follingsbee from the K’ang by the 
dexterous manipulation of legs and boots now ran 


246 The Breath of the Dragon 


swiftly back into the public room, gathered up his 
roll of bedding lying on the K’ang, and made off. 
He had no mind to take chances on being sum- 
moned before the magistrate for having kicked an 
official, even if that official had pretended to ignore 
the act. 

The cart rattled out of the court of the inn of the 
“Blue Sea” and followed a series of tortuous, 
malodorous, narrow streets till it drew up with a 
jerk before a high, brick wall. A lantern swung 
from the gate, shedding its dim light upon a 
miserable wretch seated near the entrance. A 
four-cornered heavy wooden collar was suspended 
around his neck in a manner to effectually prevent 
him from lying down, nor could his hands reach 
his mouth even for the purpose of putting food into 
it. A long red strip of paper with the magistrate’s 
seal affixed was pasted on the board and read, 
“This man is a thief ; he will wear the cangue three 
weeks.” 

Follingsbee dismissed the cart, and knocked 
vigorously upon the gates. They were opened 
and he entered the outer court of the Yamen, or, 
as the bulk of the people frequently dubbed it, 
“Terrestial hell,” for the Yamen, in their minds, 
is synonymous with torture and death. 

Most of the Yamens are built on the same gen- 
eral plan, namely four divisions consisting of courts 
and buildings. The first division contains the 
prison, also the quarters for the lictors, the ward- 
ens, porters, etc., the second is given up to the 


Outwitted 


247 


various offices connected with the administra- 
tion of justice; here, also, is the room where 
the accused is tortured to elicit from him a 
confession of guilt. The third division is the 
private office of the mandarin, together with 
the rooms for the reception of guests and the 
dwellings of the secretaries. The last division 
is wholly given over to the mandarin and his 
family. 

The porter closed and locked the gates; he moved 
leisurely and indifferently. Follingsbee called to 
him in an angry, raucous voice, “Dog! make haste, 
announce to the Magistrate that a message 
awaits him from her Sacred Majesty, the Empress 
Dowager, that her courier has ridden without inter- 
mission for many hours, killing six horses on the 
road, to deliver her august commands into his 
unworthy hands. ” 

Astounded, the porter stared at the imperial 
messenger and noted that the bloodshot eyes, the 
dirt-coated face, the stained garments, did in 
truth bespeak one who had just completed a long 
toilsome journey. But not till Follingsbee flour- 
ished before his eyes the paper bearing the imperial 
seal did he cast aside all doubt and throw himself 
on his knees. 

“Do you hear?” demanded Follingsbee. 

“Yes,” he replied humbly. 

“Hasten and obey.” 

The man rose and shouted lustily. From a 
building on the right of the court some half dozen 


348 The Breath of the Dragon 

lictors rushed out, adjusting their official hats as 
they ran. 

“On your knees! On your knees!” cried the 
porter. ‘ ‘ A messenger from the Lord of Ten Thou- 
sand Years has arrived!” Every man prostrated 
himself. 

Follingsbee was in no mood for ceremonies. 
“Make haste!” he roared with all the strength of 
his husky voice; “summon the Magistrate!” 

“Follow us, follow us, my Lord, we lead you to 
him, ” cried two of the lictors. 

“Lead me to him, dogs! What language is 
this? Does the petty Magistrate of this Yamen 
receive thus the commands of the glorious, the 
great Tzu Hsi-Kuan yu-K’ang-i-chao-yu-chuang- 
ch’eng-shou-Kung-chihn-hsien-chung-hsi? Let the 
Magistrate appear ! ” 

“We obey ! We obey ! ” cried the lictors. 1 1 The 
Magistrate is with the Senior Secretary of the 
Hing-Pu, who arrived a half hour since ; but we will 
summon him to my Lord forthwith. ” 

They started to run. Follingsbee seemed to 
feel the blood stagnate in his veins. He had ar- 
rived too late! The race was lost; the Senior 
Secretary had won by half an hour. Everything 
was finished; Fen-Sha was already hacked into 
mince-meat ; and he was caught like a rat in a trap 
from which it was vain now to try and escape. 

Something, he knew not what, within him 
groaned. It sounded hideously loud. Had the 
men heard him? Those near him were regarding 


Outwitted 


249 


him curiously. He straightened himself suddenly. 
The action seemed to stimulate his power of 
thought. 

Halt ! ” he called to the two lictors. They were 
opening the gate of the second enclosure. Obedi- 
ently they waited. 

“What execution has taken place within the 
hour?” he asked. 

“No execution has taken place withinjdie hour, ” 
they answered. 

“When did the last execution take place?” 

“At the hour of the Sheep.” 

“The criminal’s name?” 

“Ly-Ko-Nan, the river robber.” 

“It is well. Summon the Magistrate. Let it 
be done quickly, but quietly. The Senior Secre- 
tary of the Hing-Pu must not hear of the arrival of 
the imperial courier, lest he take alarm and at- 
tempt to withdraw. This is important. Go!” 

The two lictors ran; the others whispered to- 
gether ; the Senior Secretary was in disgrace then ! 
What had he done? And who was great enough to 
escape the Old Buddha’s wrath? 

Follingsbee waited. The danger of the game 
for him had increased tenfold but Fen-Sha still 
lived. The next few minutes would decide 
whether he could rescue the young Chinese re- 
former, or whether he had imperilled his own life 
futilely. 

If the Magistrate appeared alone, all might yet 
work out well; if he came accompanied by the 


250 


The Breath of the Dragon 


Senior Secretary, the game was up. Follingsbee 
felt himself growing weaker and weaker. In the 
bottom of his soul a sickening fear assailed him. 
Had the porter or one of the lictors looked at him 
then, they would have seen a shudder pass over him 
and his eyes roam over the court like a man who is 
in dread of death. Suspicious and cunning as 
those in Yamens are prone to be, their confidence 
in his integrity would have been shaken and detec- 
tion would have quickly followed, for at that 
moment Follingsbee had neither wit nor strength 
left with which to defend himself. Soon he fell 
in a kind of mental distraction. His thoughts 
flew, not to the condemned man he had come to 
rescue; not to A-lu-te, risking her life for her lover 
behind the imprisoning walls of the Summer 
Palace; not to Betty, the girl he loved; but to the 
fat little Mongol waiting at the inn of the Five 
Felicities near the Mongol market for the return 
of Lla, the racing camel. Somehow it seemed to 
Follingsbee that the necessity of communicating 
with the Mongol was paramount to every other 
necessity. “Yes, yes,” he said to himself, “I 
must take back Lla to him ; it is impossible that I 
should die before I have done that.” And he 
spread out his legs to steady himself. “A great 
runner is Lla; the Mongol is right, she is incom- 
parable. I must return to tell him the wager is 
his. Why am I kept waiting here?” 

Rage possessed him at the thought that any man 
dare attempt to delay his return, and, with rage, 


Outwitted 


251 


came strength. He stamped his feet and shouted 
hoarsely. The lictors ran to him; they could 
not understand his muttered words. Voices were 
heard in the second court; the next moment the 
gates were opened and the Magistrate appeared. 
He was alone. He came forward slowly, then 
halted, hesitating whether to advance or summon 
this imperious messenger to approach him. His 
face expressed a curious blending of deference 
and suspicion. Follingsbee did not move, instead 
he frowned, and his bloodshot eyes glared at the 
Magistrate, while he held in his hands the yellow 
paper A-lu-te had given him. The Magistrate 
was alarmed, but still inclined to incredulity. It 
was strange, he thought, that the great Old Buddha 
should send a courier to him right on the heels as 
it were of the Senior Secretary, who came directly 
from the “Sacred Mother” herself, bearing an 
important command. 

“Where are you from?” he asked. 

Follingsbee, still frowning, thrust the paper 
before the Magistrate, displaying the Empress 
Dowager’s private seal. The Magistrate gave one 
glance at the seal and dropped on his knees, while 
he uttered the ceremonial greeting of the distant 
official to his sovereign, “Ah ha, Ching Sheng An” 
(Your servant gives you greeting). 

Still kneeling he read the paper by the light of 
the lanterns his servants held on either side of him. 

‘ ‘ A Vermilion Rescript. Information has reached 
us in the seclusion of our Palace, that our Chinese 


The Breath of the Dragon \ 

subject, Fen-Sha, has been wrongfully accused of 
heinous offences against the Throne and that the 
courts deliberately obstructed the proper hearing 
of his case, instigated thereto by certain guilty 
parties in high places who desired to shield them- 
selves and whose names are now known to us. 
Our soul is vexed with such abominable treachery 
which we shall know how to deal with in due season. 
Let Fen-Sha be liberated without the fraction of a 
moment’s loss of time. Any delay in this matter 
will involve heavy penalties. This decree to be 
conveyed by special courier. Let everyone 
obey.” 

The Magistrate was now thoroughly frightened. 
Fen-Sha had been tried in his court in accordance 
with Chinese law. He had been convicted and 
sentenced to the lingering death and the Senior 
Secretary had arrived less than an hour ago to 
hasten the execution of the sentence. 

The Senior Secretary, said the Magistrate to 
himself, was evidently one of those in “high places ’ ’ 
the Old Buddha meant, and already he was a 
fish in the jar. But he, the Magistrate, would 
hasten to comply with the Vermilion Decree, and 
so save himself from imprisonment in that same 
jar. 

“The keys!” he commanded, and strode to- 
wards the prison. Follingsbee followed like one 
who is sleep walking. The heavy door was un- 
locked and it swung open with a grating sound. 
A horrible stench assailed the nostrils, shrill cries 


Outwitted 


253 


issued from the dark interior and mingled with 
the clanking of chains. The Magistrate and Fol- 
lingsbee entered, preceded by the lictors holding 
lanterns. 

The enclosure was small; on three sides were 
ranged the cells of the prisoners. Death and terror 
hovered in the air. Around the ankle of every 
prisoner, iron rings were attached, connected by a 
foot length of chain, to which was fastened a five 
foot long block of wood. Some of the prisoners 
had their hands free, more were handcuffed; the 
shackles fastened by chains to the iron rings on 
their ankles. Here and there a malefactor had 
a chain around his waist and another around his 
neck, both being attached to iron rings on his 
ankles and iron bracelets on his wrists. The 
weight of all this metal made movement almost 
impossible, or so painful the prisoners preferred to 
remain for hours, days, even weeks, without chang- 
ing their position. Their clothes hung from them 
in shreds, or had dropped entirely off, disclosing 
deep welts on legs and shoulders, made by the 
whippings they had received. 

Follingsbee stared with glassy eyes, which only 
half saw, at a man whose swollen lips were cut to 
ribbons, whose teeth wobbled loosely in their 
sockets from the blows administered upon his 
mouth with a heavy strip of leather. He could not 
speak and had been unable to eat for many days. 
The whites of his eyes shone ghastly. He was 
slowly dying from pain and hunger. Next to 


2 54 


The Breath of the Dragon 


him lay a young man who, though more heavily 
weighted with irons than many of the others, was 
neither as feeble or emaciated as his fellow-prison- 
ers. This was due to the large bribes the guards 
had received to keep him well furnished with food 
and drink, and also because the death sentence 
had been pronounced upon him. The authorities 
permitted such indulgences (when richly paid for) 
that the prisoner might not enter the spirit world 
a half-starved shadow and be tempted to return 
and haunt those who had condemned him. It 
was before this man the Magistrate halted. “ The 
Sacred Mother in her great beneficence has par- 
doned you and commanded your release. You 
are free to go hence.” Astonishment seized the 
man, he looked from the Magistrate to Follings- 
bee and back again to the Magistrate, without 
uttering a syllable. The chains were unlocked 
from his body; they fell from him with a loud 
clanking noise. Cries and groans now came from 
the prisoners near him, “Pardon, pardon, for us, 
too, O, Lord!” The cry was taken up by other 
poor wretches in more distant cells, till the stinking 
air teemed with sobs, supplications, and groans. 
The Magistrate gave command to beat them into 
silence. 

The young man who found himself so unexpect- 
edly free of his chains, fell on his knees and begged 
the Magistrate to thank the “Beneficent Mother ” ; 
then he rose stiffly, stood a moment accustoming 
himself to his unfettered condition, and slowly 


Outwitted 


255 

followed the Magistrate and Follingsbee from that 
hellish place. 

In the outer court the Magistrate invited the 
imperial courier to take refreshment in the guest 
house. Much there was he wished to learn and 
here in the court, in the presence of the warden, 
the lictors, he would not speak openly. In a 
strange tongue and in a broken, indistinct, halting 
voice Follingsbee answered. The Magistrate 
looked blank. “What do you say?” he asked. 

Again F ollingsbee answered and again in English : 

The-Mongol-was-right. Lla-is-a-great-runner. 
I-must-to-Peking-and-tell-him. ” 

It was then that the released prisoner began to 
tremble violently. He looked toward the great 
gates already unlocked and opened by the porter. 
No one would prevent him if he dashed out, such 
haste would be natural to a man who had just 
received his pardon and been liberated from prison. 
It seemed for a moment as if he would run. Then 
he deliberately turned, flung himself on the ground 
before Follingsbee, and in a loud voice said, “I 
hear, Imperial Edict shall be obeyed. I am ready 
to accompany you back to Peking.” 

On hearing this, the Magistrate addressed his 
erstwhile prisoner in wheedling tones. “Fen- 
Sha, you are going to Peking. I do not think you 
have any complaint to make of me. I have not 
eaten your money and, if you have been a prisoner 
in my Yamen, it was because those higher in 
authority than I convicted you. You see I_do 


256 The Breath of the Dragon 


not conceal the truth from you. Imperial Edict 
now summons you to Peking. May your report 
of my conduct be a good one. I offer up wishes for 
your prosperity. When you return my services 
are yours.” 

“ Your conduct towards me has been irreproach- 
able,” lied Fen-Sha, “my report will be an honest 
one.” 

He touched Follingsbee’s sleeve. “It is time. 
Come,” he said, and added firmly, distinctly, “To 
Peking.” 

Follingsbee nodded, he understood that he was 
to return to Peking. The great gates closed 
behind them. They were alone on the street 
except for the wretch with the cangue on his neck, 
who still sat by the Yamen entrance. He had 
dropped asleep exhausted, but woke to whine for 
help as the two young men came out. Fen-Sha 
had seized his rescuer’s arm. “Hurry!” he 
whispered in English. Follingsbee jerked himself 
free. “Yes, yes,” he said, “but where is Lla? 
I cannot go without Lla!” 

In vain Fen-Sha urged him in a low voice, vi- 
brant with fear, not to linger, but to hasten with 
all speed from the place. Follingsbee planted his 
feet firmly and wagged his head to and fro. “ Un- 
doubtedly you do not know Lla; she can run like 
the wind, no animal can compare to her. I will 
not go without her.” From behind the Yamen 
walls came the sound of loud and confused voices. 
Fen-Sha seized Follingsbee’s arm again and at- 


Outwitted 


^57 


tempted to drag him off. His efforts were futile. 
The wretch in the cangue whined louder, showing 
his long yellow teeth; he stretched out a naked 
arm in supplication. Follingsbee stared at him 
stupidly, then gravely inquired, “Have you 
seen Lla?” A cunning look came into the man’s 
drawn face. “My Lord,” he said, “how should I 
know? Perhaps I have. Ease me but a few 
small seconds of this awful weight by holding it 
up that I may think clearly.” 

He had scarcely finished speaking before Fol- 
lingsbee was tugging at the wooden collar and, 
with all his strength, was endeavouring to wrench 
open the lock. 

“Stop! Stop!” cried Fen-Sha, in his ear. “We 
are lost if you do that, and we are lost if you do not 
leave this place immediately. Hark! What are 
they howling about in there?” He stood an 
instant intently listening to the voices, stridently 
loud now, on the other side of the wall. 

“Hell!” he muttered, “the Senior Secretary 
is there haranguing them! We are lost without 
doubt now if I cannot induce this madman to run. ” 

He turned again to Follingsbee and saw, to his 
amazement, that, with the superhuman strength 
of the delirious, he actually had wrenched apart 
the locked cangue. The huge wooden collar fell 
with a dull thud to the ground. The thief, with- 
out stopping to utter a word of gratitude, ran off 
on all fours like an escaped wild beast. This 
enraged Follingsbee; he tore after him, shouting 


a 


258 The Breath of the Dragon 


angrily, “You devil’s imp, you black rogue, stop! 
I tell you stop! You said you knew where Lla 
was!” 

Fen-Sha rushed after Follingsbee, glad that at 
last he was running from the dangerous vicinity 
of the Yamen, it mattered not on what absurd 
errand. Of a sudden Follingsbee stopped, put his 
hand to his forehead, his feet slipped from under 
him, and he sank to the ground, a loose-jointed, 
inert mass. 

Fen-Sha was a small man, as the Chinese from 
the South are apt to be, but his muscles were 
brawny. He stooped and picking up Follingsbee 
flung him over his shoulder. Bent double under 
his burden he ran on. The American’s legs were 
long, they scraped the ground, impeding the flight. 
Fen-Sha turned into a side street, narrow, twisting 
like a corkscrew. He ran till his lungs were ready 
to burst, then he slowed to a snail’s pace. He 
could go no farther with his burden. In the dis- 
tance he heard shouting; it grew louder, nearer, 
momentarily. ‘ 1 The entire Y amen has turned out 
to get us,” he panted. A cart rattled around the 
corner of an adjoining street. A lantern swung 
from the shafts. Fen-Sha hailed the driver; the 
man gave no heed, unless it was to urge his mule 
to a faster trot. Fen-Sha made shift to follow, 
still calling. “Idiot!” yelled the driver back at 
him, “the foreign Excellency I am driving doesn’t 
want such scum as you for company. ” 

Fen-Sha dropped Follingsbee from his back as 


Outwitted 


259 


he would have dropped a bag of coal or any kind 
of commodity and bounded after the cart, calling 
in English, “Help! help! an American is dying!” 

A sharp, imperative voice from the interior of 
the clumsy vehicle ordered the driver to halt and 
a foreigner sprang from the cart. The cries of the 
pursuers drew nearer and nearer. “Quick!” 
gasped Fen-Sha. “An American, Mr. Follingsbee, 
has dropped from exhaustion back here. Will 
you take him to the American Consulate?” 

“Not by a long shot!” answered the foreigner, 
who was known all over the foreign concession of 
Tientsin as Billy Lade of the Hanky Spanky, as 
the Hong-Kong and Shanghai Banking Corpora- 
tion was called. “If the chap is Follingsbee he’s 
a friend of mine and goes to my house. Where is 
he?” “I will bring him,” replied Fen-Sha, and 
ran back a short distance. Billy Lade ran, too. 
He did not hesitate when he saw a man in Chinese 
dress lying in the dirt of the street. He had 
acquaintance with the incomprehensible fondness 
of his friend for masquerading in native garb. 
He assisted Fen-Sha in carrying him to the cart. 
The sound of many men running mingled plainly 
now with the shouting. 

“The Yamen officers!” whispered Fen-Sha. 
“They are after me. Follingsbee got me out of 
prison at the risk of his life; hide him under the 
seat; tell the men when they stop you, you saw me 
running in that direction,” pointing to an alley 
on the left. 


26 o 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Got a name?” asked Billy Lade, peering into 
the round boyish face. The other nodded. 
“Well, what in hell is it?” “Fen-Sha,” he an- 
swered and vanished in the darkness of the street. 

Even Billy Lade had heard of Fen-Sha, the 
indefatigable organizer of reform clubs in the 
North and South of China; a man of sincerity and 
high purpose and loved by the people. 

Billy Lade climbed into his cart and ordered the 
driver to proceed without undue haste and in- 
structed him what to say should anyone stop to 
question them. 

“And,” he continued menacingly in his execra- 
ble Chinese, “if you speak a word other than I 
have told you, I will deliver to the Yamen officials 
your brother for complicity in that Nin-Yeng 
affair.” 

The driver required no other inducement to 
obey Billy Lade’s instruction. 

The shouts behind them now resolved them- 
selves in loud commands to halt. The cart came 
to a standstill ; it was surrounded by a rush of men 
waving lanterns in their left hands and short 
swords in their right. 

“Who rides here?” rasped an authoritative 
voice. A lantern was thrust into the eart, fol- 
lowed by the yellow countenance of a lictor with 
fantastic headgear. 

“Neither devil nor ghost, but may both haunt 
your steps till you learn better manners, ” said Billy 
Lade coolly. The man on recognizing a foreigner 


Outwitted 


261 


drew back, muttering something under his garlic- 
reeking breath, which might have been an apology 
or might have been an imprecation. 

The frightened driver was now questioned. He 
replied that he had seen a man running rapidly 
down the alley on the left, where he had disap- 
peared, he thought, in one of the houses. 

“This way!” yelled a voice. The next minute 
the street was deserted save for the cart and its 
occupants. 

“Home! And drive like the devil,” said Billy 
Lade. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


BETRAYED 

The Empress Dowager had slept over-long, 
which was one of the reasons she was in a bad 
humour. Also she had dreamed much and the 
nature of the dreams disturbed her. She had 
seen a great catafalque borne by all the Imperial 
Clansmen in the realm, descendants of the mighty 
Nurhachu. Behind the catafalque appeared two 
splendid palanquins with tightly drawn curtains 
of apricot silk emblazoned with the dragon and 
phoenix. After the palanquins came a long pro- 
cession of palace eunuchs, holding aloft gaudy 
honorific umbrellas, upon which were painted in 
large characters, not only her name, and the name 
of the young Emperor, but those of Manchu 
rulers long dead. In the far distance, so far she 
could not discern their faces, tottered feebly a 
woman, holding by the hand a little boy. The 
procession passed through many towns and vil- 
lages unheeded by their inhabitants, who were 
gazing half fearfully, half rapturously, at a bird so 
monstrously large, the tip of each outspread wing 
was lost in the blue horizon. The bird held in 
262 


Betrayed 263 

his beak the seal of state upon which were the 
characters “lawfully transmitted authority.” 

The Empress Dowager determined to consult 
the court astrologers as to the meaning of the 
dream. She was about to command their appear- 
ance within the next hour, when her eye chanced 
to rest on the forefinger of her right hand. The 
seal ring which had sparkled there since she had 
been supreme in China was gone. 

She uttered a piercing shriek, then another and 
another. Eunuchs, slaves, amahs , and court 
attendants waiting without rushed in alarm to her 
bedside. A-lu-te and Chou-Chau, who had just 
been relieved from their long night vigil and were 
hastening to their pavilion, turned and ran back. 
They found the Empress Dowager sitting up in 
bed, waving away the frightened servant holding 
her usual morning bowl of lotus-root porridge. 

“My ring!” she screamed, “my ring is gone; it 
has been stolen while I slept.” Her beautifully 
modelled little hand was outstretched; the jade 
ring which had always adorned that perfect hand 
was no longer there. All were aghast. The faces 
of the night watchers went white with terror. 
Chou-Chau trembled like a fragile reed in a wind ; 
she began to cry. The Empress Dowager turned 
upon her in savage anger and exclaimed, “That 
woman is the guilty one ; gaze on her all of you and 
tell me if she acts not like a detected thief. ” 

“ Jur” (yes), they said, glad to have the Old 
Buddha's wrath concentrated upon one person. 


264 The Breath of the Dragon 


Only Chou-Chau, almost dead with fear, and 
A-lu-te remained silent. 

“Where is my ring?” shrieked the Empress 
Dowager. Chou-Chau fell on her trembling 
knees and, sobbing more violently than before, 
protested her innocence. 

“Call the Chief Eunuch,” commanded the 
Empress Dowager. “He will know how to deal 
with her and obtain a confession. ” 

“He went to Peking at the hour of the Tig- 
er,” said a eunuch knocking his head on the 
floor. 

“Let this woman be locked up then till he 
returns.” Two eunuchs seized the wretched 
Chou-Chau and were dragging her off, when 
A-lu-te, pointing to the left hand of the Empress 
Dowager, said boldly, “Great Old Ancestor, the 
ring is there; your Majesty no doubt changed it in 
your sleep.” 

The Empress Dowager looked. On the second 
finger of her left hand she saw the jade seal ring. 
Intense relief blended with suspicion and surprise 
showed on her face, but she did not speak. Her 
eyes glanced from the ring to the people around 
her, then sank to the floor. All felt her silence to 
be ominous. The sigh of relief which had breathed 
from their hearts when they saw the ring was 
already stifled. No one moved. The eunuchs 
who were dragging Chou-Chau from the room 
stood still, their grasp on the sick girl loosened. 
Every eye was turned toward the Old Buddha, 


Betrayed 265 

as if something were about to happen, something 
unusual and to be dreaded. 

At last the Empress Dowager spoke. Her voice 
was quiet, too quiet A-lu-te thought, as she tried 
to still the throbbing in her veins. 

“Where/’ said the Empress Dowager, not lifting 
her eyes, “where did that mud come from?” 

They saw now that she had been staring at 
small mud marks on the floor; they blinked their 
amazement, and mutely echoed her question, 
“Where did the mud come from?” 

The Empress Dowager’s fastidiousness was only 
too well known. Her abhorrence of anything 
even remotely suggestive of dust and dirt was a 
pronounced characteristic of her nature, and that 
portion of the Palace reserved for her special 
occupancy was kept immaculately clean. Such a 
thing as mud stains in the imperial bedchamber was 
inconceivable. Eunuchs, amahs , and court ladies 
could scarcely believe the evidence of their eyes. 

“That,” said the Empress Dowager slowly, 
pointing to the stains, “that was brought in here 
this night. ” 

She looked around at her attendants, her bright 
eyes snapping. “All who watched in my room, 
come forward, ” she commanded. 

The eunuchs, amahs , and slave-girls promptly 
ranged themselves in a line before her bed. Chou- 
Chau came also, her face pitifully white and drawn, 
her eyes like those of a frightened animal. A-lu-te 
placed herself beside Chou-Chau. 


266 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“You will each examine the shoes of the one 
beside you and report upon their condition, ” said 
the Empress Dowager. 

The eunuchs began; the report, always favour- 
able, finally reached Chou-Chau. She, poor 
thing, was looking blankly down at A-lu-te’s 
dainty, embroidered shoes. They were stained, 
spattered with mud. She began to cry again 
helplessly. A-lu-te had been her only friend in 
the Palace, the only one who ever spoke a kind 
word to her, and she could not bear the thought of 
accusing her. 

“Well,” the Empress Dowager flashed out at 
her, “are your silly eyes blind, or has your tongue 
lost its power of speech?” 

“There is mud upon her shoes,” she faltered in 
a voice so low it was almost inaudible. She 
clutched at her throat. 

“What does the creature say?” blazed the Be- 
nign Mother. 

“She says there is mud upon my shoes,” said 
A-lu-te, while she clasped Chou-Chau’s arm firmly 
to prevent the girl from falling. 

The Empress Dowager turned to A-lu-te. 

“Is it true, child?” she asked with unexpected 
gentleness. 

“It is true.” 

“Why did you leave your post last night and 
where did you go? Speak freely and do not dis- 
semble.” 

“After the Great Old Ancestor found rest in 


Betrayed 


267 


slumber last night, her handmaiden Wang-ti 
ceased her ministrations, yet remained near the 
sacred couch, prepared to watch there till dawn. 
But Chou-Chau, whose sickness is truly great, 
choked with the cough which she was trying to 
suppress. Her face grew purple, her eyes bulged 
from her head, and, fearing she would pass away, 
your handmaiden sped out into the dark night, 
to the marble steps leading to the lake, and dipped 
her handkerchief into the water, then returning 
moistened Chou-Chau’ s face. This is the explana- 
tion of the marks upon the shoes of the Great Old 
Ancestor’s handmaiden”; she ceased speaking. 
Her lovely dark eyes were lowered, while her 
slender form stood erect as a young willow, giving 
her an air which was at once deferential, modest, 
and fearless. 

| “How pretty she is,” the Empress Dowager 
almost spoke her thoughts aloud. Then she 
looked at Chou-Chau, whose sickly pallor could 
not be disguised by the heavy coating of red paint 
on her thin cheeks. 

Tzu Hsi had never cared for Chou-Chau; the 
girl was stupid and stupid people always brought 
out the worst in her nature; her indifference had 
gradually grown into positive dislike. She was 
glad of an excuse to throw all the blame upon 
Chou-Chau. Her tone changed, it became sharp, 
abrupt, angry. 

“So it is you who are to blame; you wanted 
water, and in your boundless selfishness you 


268 The Breath of the Dragon 

curbed your foolish cough till you frightened 
Wang-ti and caused her not only to run the risk of 
drowning, for the night was dark, and the lake 
deep by this pavilion, but you also hoped to draw 
upon her head the punishment which you merited. 
I will see the Chief Eunuch about you later. Go 
to your room. ” 

The frightened girl obeyed. Steps were heard 
in the outer room; the silk curtains were raised 
and Li himself appeared. An air of suppressed 
excitement was apparent in him. Chou-Chau 
heard the Empress Dowager call out, “You did not 
go to Peking after all? It is well, I need you this 
morning. ” 

One long deep shudder passed over Chou-Chau ; 
then she crept slowly back to her room. 

The Chief Eunuch approached close to the 
Empress Dowager and in a low, confidential voice 
told her that, before he had gone far on the road 
to Peking, he fell in with a Manchu official, also 
bound for the capital, and had conversation with 
him. The nature of this conversation was such 
that he desired the official to return with him 
forthwith to the Summer Palace. He was now out- 
side the gates awaiting permission to be received 
in audience. 

“Who is this official ?” asked Tzu Hsi. 

Li leaned forward and whispered the name in 
her ear. When he straightened himself again he 
turned his head slowly to look at A-lu-te out of 
little eyes that gleamed with malignant triumph. 


Betrayed 


269 


A-lu-te felt suddenly weak; the pulse beat 
oppressively in her temples. Who was this 
Manchu official and what had he told the Chief 
Eunuch that he should return in haste to the 
Palace, bringing the man with him? 

“I will give him audience within the hour, M 
announced the Empress Dowager. “ Hsiao Kuni- 
ang, ” she said gaily to A-lu-te, “go and put on 
your loveliest gown, I want you to look your best 
this morning when I send for you. I will give 
you an ornament for your hair. Bring me box two 
on the first shelf in the jewel room. ” 

The jewel room adjoined the Empress Dowager’s 
bedroom; it was lined from floor to ceiling with 
shelves covered with rows upon rows of ebony 
boxes, their numbers indicated on yellow strips 
of paper pasted on the covers. More than three 
thousand cases containing Tzu-Hsi’s jewels were 
kept in this room. A-lu-te found box two ; she held 
it a moment in her hands till she could still their 
trembling, then returned to the bedroom. 

The Empress Dowager commanded her to open 
the little ebony box. It contained a jade and coral 
lotus flower beautiful in form and colour; the 
petals delicate, graceful, languishing as those of 
the natural flower. It was a wonderful specimen 
of the artistic skill of Chinese workmanship. 

“Do you like it Hsiao Kuniang?” asked the 
Empress Dowager with her winning smile. 

“The Great Old Ancestor overwhelms her un- 
worthy handmaiden with her gracious munifi- 


270 


The Breath of the Dragon 


cence,” said A-lu-te, and falling on her knees, 
kowtowed repeatedly. The emotion in her voice 
might readily have been caused by her joy at 
receiving so beautiful a gift. 

“I knew you would like it, it will show to ad- 
vantage in your dark hair. Go, now, and dress ; 
put more paint on your lips and cheeks; I do not 
want you to look like a widow.” And, smiling, 
sweet-faced, as one whose life is passed in giving 
joy to others, the Empress Dowager waved her 
little hand in dismissal. 

A-lu-te left the room, carrying the ebony box 
which held the jade and coral lotus flower. Her 
soul was sick with fear. As she passed the Chief 
Eunuch, she saw him smile. There was something 
horrible in that smile. When she reached her 
pavilion, she was relieved to find that Ho-Shu, 
the eunuch who replaced S’ang as her attendant, 
was not there. She not only disliked, but dis- 
trusted him. She heard Chou-Chau feebly calling 
and, throwing the ebony box hurriedly on the 
K’ang, went to the girl’s room. Chou-Chau was 
lying on the floor ; she looked like a broken flower. 
A-lu-te half dragged, half lifted her to the K’ang. 

“Wang-ti,” said Chou-Chau, in a faint voice, 
“you have been good to me. I have been in the 
Palace two years, and during all that time, no 
person has spoken a kind word to me until you 
came. Your presence has cheered and comforted 
me. I am going to die and I want to thank you. ” 

“You will not die, dear Chou-Chau; you are 


Betrayed 


271 


weak now and exhausted, but that will pass,” 
replied A-lu-te, striving to encourage her. 

“Oh,” exclaimed the girl in a piteous voice, “do 
not say so; the thought that I will pass away 
quietly with no one near but you is sweet to me, 
sweeter than you can possibly know, for you have 
not been made to suffer as I have here. In this 
dreadful place lurked death always for me. When 
the sounds of merriment were gayest, when singing 
and laughter were loudest, they could not drown 
the distant echo of death’s stealthy tread, coming 
nearer and ever nearer, and my heart would grow 
cold as I listened, I shuddered and was afraid, 
always afraid.” 

“Poor Chou-Chau,” said A-lu-te pityingly. 

“Now I am afraid no more. Bend your head 
lower — so — I want to ask you before I die — is it 
true you went to the lake to fetch water for me 
last night?” 

“No.” 

“I thought so, though I could not be sure, for 
my sickness does at times make me so faint, I often 
do not know what takes place around me. Tell 
me — ” she raised herself up to peer into A-lu-te’ s 
face and her voice sank to a mere breath, “were 
you trying to escape from the Palace and returned 
because you could not?” 

“No.” 

“Yet I know you hate it here, for all that Lao 
Tsu Tsung is so good to you ; I have watched your 
face when we were alone and I know.” 


272 The Breath of the Dragon 


“Yes, I hate it here, ” said A-lu-te with subdued 
energy, “and if I could, I would escape this very 
hour, this very minute. ” 

“Listen — put your ear close to my mouth — my 
strength is fast failing and I must tell you some- 
thing. ” 

A-lu-te bent her head till her shell pink ear 
touched the bloodless lips of the dying girl. “I 
have hidden in the firehole of the K’ang a box — in 
it is a Lama’s gown and hat and the bald headpiece. 
I stole them one day from the rooms where the 
theatrical wardrobe is kept. I meant to escape 
from here disguised as a young Lama, but my 
courage always failed. Now I am dying, — I shall 
not need the dress; take it and may Buddha help 
you to get safely away.” 

“Chou-Chau, dear Chou-Chau, don’t die — we 
will escape together — we will go this very night.” 

“Yes, we will go tonight, but not together, dear 
White Jade. This little cicada, called Chou- 
Chau, will soon shake off her shell and fly away, 
and not even the wicked Li Lien Ying or Lao Tsu 
Tsung can prevent the flight. But I would you 
were already safe outside these dreadful palace 
walls. ” — She sighed and her thin transparent 
hand stroked feebly A-lu-te’s glossy hair. — Sud- 
denly she raised herself. ‘ ‘ Listen ! ’ ’ she whispered, 
“I hear footsteps coming this way. Oh, dear 
White Jade, hasten, take the box now while we 
are alone — carry it to your room. ” 

To quiet her A-lu-te took the box from its hiding 


Betrayed 273 

place, and hurrying to her own room, thrust it 
inside the K’ang. 

The quick, sharp patter of swift-stepping feet 
drew nearer, then stopped before the pavilion. 

A-lu-te peeped from the window and was aghast 
to see the Empress Dowager, assisted by the Chief 
Eunuch, descend from her chair. Why had she 
come? 

A-lu-te experienced a sudden tightening of the 
heart. The outer door was flung open. The 
next minute the coarse ugly face of Li Lien Ying 
appeared holding apart the curtains of her room. 
His expression was suave and cruelly knowing. 
The loudest sound in the room was A-lu-te’s heart 
beating turbulently. The Empress Dowager 
swept in like a whirlwind. The two women, one 
of them young and beautiful; the other, older, 
possessing an attraction greater than beauty, faced 
one another an instant. Then A-lu-te sank on the 
floor making an obeisance. A glance at the Em- 
press Dowager’s face was sufficient to show she was 
in a towering passion. 

“Miserable and worthless one!” she cried furi- 
ously, “you have been caught in your lies, tied 
up in your deceits. I know all. Your vile, 
unutterably despicable deception has been un- 
covered. Your name is a lie, your presence in 
my Palace a lie, your words lies. You are not 
Wang-ti the daughter of Lord Ko Lin Ch’in, 
for she died two years since — he, himself, has 
been here and trembles with rage and sorrow 

18 { ; 


274 The Breath of the Dragon 

that his name should have been put to such 
base uses. What have you to say? Speak!” 

The storm had broken. A-lu-te bowed her head 
before it. She was benumbed with fear. She had 
often tried to prepare herself for this moment, 
knowing it would come, sooner or later, but always 
she had cherished a hope, faint though it was, that 
she would make good her escape before the dreaded 
hour arrived. Now she was face to face with it, 
she seemed to be looking into a black bottomless 
pit, on the narrow brim of which she was vainly 
endeavouring to maintain her balance. 

“Do you hear? Speak!” commanded the 
Empress Dowager. But A-lu-te could not speak, 
her tongue refused to answer the summons of her 
will. The eyes of the Chief Eunuch blinked with 
vindictive joy. 

“Her tongue is tied, Old Buddha,” he said; 
“this wench who ‘smiles in public’ has, it would 
seem, some sense of shame left in her, even though 
she has long been but a broken melon.” 

A wench who smiles in public ! A broken melon ! 
The hot blood mounted to A-lu-te’s cheeks. To 
be called a common courtesan by this eunuch! 

An insensate fury possessed her. She sprang 
to her feet; she had of a sudden no more fear of 
these two than she had of Chou-Chau or any 
other miserable wretch within the Palace. Pet- 
rified but a moment since with terror, she now was 
prepared to spend her strength against stone walls, 
against mountains and stormy tides, to do battle 


Betrayed 


275 


with the whole world arraigned against her, as 
indeed it was at that moment, as far as her situa- 
tion was concerned. She fastened her flashing 
eyes on the Empress Dowager; her head was 
thrown back; with her forefinger she pointed at 
the Chief Eunuch. “Does your Majesty permit a 
creature who is fit only to sweep floors, who is 
despised by the lowest coolie in your realm, does 
your Majesty permit so vile a thing to give expres- 
sion to his low lies ? ” 

The Empress Dowager was dumbfounded; she 
stared at her as if in a stupor. 

But rage shook the Chief Eunuch, from his 
mouth came a sound more like the roar of a wild 
beast than a human voice. He sprang forward 
with raised hand to strike A-lu-te. She turned 
swiftly towards him. “Back, dog!” she cried 
furiously. “Back to your place. Make haste. 
Your tail has wagged once too often.” Li glared 
at her with murder in his eyes, yet the raised hand 
sank to his side. Her commanding eyes, her 
imperious voice seemed to be driving him step by 
step back to his place by the door, where he stood, 
unable to stem the torrent of abuse which burst 
from her lips. She reviled him savagely, every 
word bore a sting sharp as a scorpion’s, her wrath 
was appalling in its fierceness. 

The Empress Dowager stood like a figure of 
stone with living eyes fixed upon the girl as if she 
were trying to engrave her features upon her very 
soul and compare them with the features of one 


276 The Breath of the Dragon 


she had always known. Something vague, an 
intangible thought far back in her mind, tor- 
mented her. She could not clutch it ; it refused to 
answer her imperious will and come boldly from its 
lurking place. The lines about her mouth were 
pathetic ; fear, hope, wonder shone in her eyes. 

Not until the torrential storm of words had 
ceased to flow from A-lu-te’s lips, did she speak. 

Her own words came with an effort, her voice 
shook and was low. 

“Who are you?” 

A moment of silence ensued. It was if the two 
women had suddenly changed places. 

Tzu Hsi was no longer the all-powerful sovereign, 
divinely angry, but a woman, weak, pale, harassed, 
with some hidden emotion; while A-lu-te, quiet 
now, since her burst of passion, stood like a young 
empress, unterrified, erect, and haughty. 

“Who are you?” faltered the Empress Dowager 
again. 

“The adopted child of Duke Tsing, to whom was 
sent by imperial decree the silken cord of self- 
despatch.” 

“Tsing?” Tzu Hsi puckered her brows like 
one trying to recall a long forgotten incident. 

But the Chief Eunuch started violently. In a 
flash he remembered a certain lacquer box in his 
private apartment where he kept documents of 
various sorts and where he had tossed contemptu- 
ously a memorial from the condemned suicide 
Tsing, addressed to the Empress Dowager. The 


Betrayed 


277 


bearer of the memorial had not been supplied with 
sufficient taels to pay Li, and the Chief Eunuch, 
who was a stickler in regard to claiming the exact 
amount of his “squeeze,” had not troubled himself 
to present the memorial, or even, as was his 
custom, to read it. 

For once in his life he regretted the greed which 
influenced so many of his acts and which, on this 
occasion, had caused him deliberately to forget 
a document containing, it might be, important 
disclosures concerning the Manchu girl. 

He now addressed the Empress Dowager in his 
usual unceremonious manner. 

“It is plain, Old Buddha, why this woman 
sought to thrust herself into the Palace. With 
evil heart she thought to kill you, and so be re- 
venged for the death of Tsing whom you leniently 
permitted to commit suicide, although his crime 
merited capital punishment. Your escape, Old 
Buddha, has indeed been miraculous. If I had 
not chanced upon Lord Ko Lin Ch’in this morning 
and conducted him here to repeat to you that 
which he already had imparted to me, this wicked 
woman might even today have found occasion to 
accomplish her accursed crime.” 

By accusing A-lu-te of plotting against the life 
of the Empress Dowager, Li wanted to accomplish 
three things, — divert the attention of Tzu Hsi 
from the girl’s striking resemblance to herself when 
mastered by passion; inspire again in A-lu-te’ s 
breast the fear which had so strangely fled from 


278 The Breath of the Dragon 


it; and lastly to change the trend of the Em- 
press Dowager’s questions concerning A-lu-te’s 
parentage. 

He was successful. His words roused Tzu Hsi; 
she shook off the spell which bound her. “Is it 
true, girl, you came here to seek my death?” she 
cried. 

i Upon A-lu-te, the eunuch’s accusations had 
wrought even a greater change than he had dared 
hope. Her look of haughty defiance and anger 
vanished. She no longer stood erect and un- 
afraid, but, uttering a cry of horror, sank upon her 
knees. “Oh, no, no, no,” she sobbed, “he lies 
most hideously, most shamefully. Your hand- 
maiden could never be guilty of such depths of 
wickedness. She could no more cherish such sinful 
thoughts against your Majesty than she could plot 
against the life of her own mother were she still 
blessed with one. ” 

The Empress Dowager impulsively took a step 
forward, while a softened look crept into her face. 

The Chief Eunuch clenched his hands under his 
long sleeves. This was not what he had expected. 
He plucked the Empress Dowager’s gown. “Be 
careful, Old Buddha, ” he warned her with pretence 
of anxiety. “Go not near her. Ask her instead 
why she forced herself into the Palace if she came 
not to commit the foulest and blackest of crimes. ” 

“Aye,” said the Empress Dowager gloomily, 
“what brought you here?” 

“Your handmaiden will tell all,” cried A-lu-te 


Betrayed 


279 


vehemently, “and the Great Old Ancestor can 
judge if what she says bears not the seal of truth. 
In the house of your servant, Duke Tsing, lived 
his secretary, who had a son, but little older than 
your handmaiden. His name was Fen-Sha.” 

The Empress Dowager started and frowned 
angrily, while Li hid a satisfied smile at the un- 
expected disclosure. 

“From their childhood,” continued A-lu-te, 
“they played together and were constant com- 
panions. When he was sent to school, your 
handmaiden besought her father by adoption to 
permit her to study the same lessons which were 
given to her playmate, for she did not want him to 
become wiser than she and perhaps grow to scorn 
her, for already she loved him beyond all else in 
the world. ” She stopped, sighed heavily, and 
began again as if talking to herself: “Those were 
days of happiness, dream days, bright as the glow- 
ing pomegranate, sweet as the ripe persimmon. 
Then came a time when my father offered to send 
Fen-Sha to the Western land, America, to com- 
plete his education, because of his scholarly abil- 
ities, which were great. My father attached one 
condition to his offer, — that Fen-Sha upon his 
return should devote his talents for the benefit of 
his countrymen. Fen-Sha promised eagerly and 
prepared to take the long journey across the seas. 
But I wept as I had never wept before and would 
not be comforted. My grief touched Fen-Sha, 
for he loved me only a little less than I loved him. 


28 o 


The Breath of the Dragon 


He begged my father to promise me to him in 
marriage. My father at first refused, there were 
reasons connected with my birth which he de- 
clared made a union between us impossible. But 
Fen-Sha pleaded; he cared not, he said, whether 
I were slave or princess, he loved me and would wed 
none other, and I made a vow that if he continued 
to withhold his consent, I would seek death by 
starvation. Seeing us so determined, my father, 
after long deliberation, finally yielded, and we 
became affianced. It was agreed that our mar- 
riage should not take place till a year after Fen- 
Sha had completed his foreign education. The 
years were long during which he was gone and only 
his letters came to brighten the dull weary days. 
I lived for those letters; they were like food and 
drink to my hungry heart. All waiting has an 
end. Fen-Sha came home. He spent the year 
my father had stipulated should pass before we 
married, in organizing clubs over the country, 
north and south, for the propagation of progressive 
ideas, social and agricultural, among the people. ” 
The Empress Dowager had listened in silence 
to A-lu-te’s story, but now she broke in angrily: 
“He was a base traitor, roaming over my realm, 
disseminating false and turbulent doctrines, at- 
tempting to destroy the solidity of the Empire 
and create party factions and defame the jade 
name of his sacred sovereign. ” 

“His voice was never raised against your Ma- 
jesty,” declared A-lu-te firmly. 


Betrayed 


281 

“Talk not of what this man did — you can tell 
me nothing I do not already know. He was caught 
and has paid the penalty of his wickedness and died 
the death of a low-born criminal. ” 

A-lu-te looked up at the Empress Dowager and 
said slowly, solemnly, exultantly, “Not so, he 
lives !” 

“He lives?” repeated the Empress Dowager 
angrily. “Aye in hell where he belongs. Go on 
with your tale, girl — make it short. ” 

“Your handmaiden will be brief. When Fen- 
Sha was imprisoned and sentenced to ignominious 
death, she wept tears of blood. But tears, even 
though they flow long enough to flood the land, 
cannot drown a sorrow; then she conceived a 
project. It was a mad one, but the ache to save 
him had brought her to that state of mind which 
is ready for any deed, no matter how strange or 
how difficult. She sought her father and told him 
of her plan. As she unfolded it, he gazed at her 
strangely and, when she had concluded, exclaimed : 
Buddha himself wills it, he has planned it so! 
Go, my child, but I enjoin upon you to use your 
utmost endeavours not only to win the love of the 
Empress Dowager, but to love her yourself, even 
though you fail to obtain Fen-Sha’s pardon and he 
dies, as I, your father by adoption, must die. 
Remember, it is not she who is to blame, she is a 
great woman; her faults are not her own, but 
China’s. Love her and honour her always.’ He 
went to a cabinet and opening a secret drawer took 


282 


The Breath of the Dragon 


from it a paper. Holding it in his hands, as though 
about to give it to your handmaiden, he reflected 
deeply, then returned it to its place again. ‘I 
intended giving this document into your keeping. 
I have long prepared it. It concerns you. But 
now I think it will serve you best if I include it 
in the memorial I shall write to the Empress 
Dowager the day I die. Be not afraid, go in 
peace. You have been a dutiful daughter to me; 
your future will be happy. * Weeping, your 
handmaiden bade him good-bye. How she passed 
herself off as the daughter of the Lord Ko, it is not 
necessary to relate. She thought to influence 
your Majesty to pardon Fen-Sha. But she soon 
became convinced of the futility of such a hope. ” 

A-lu-te paused. 

“So,” said the Empress Dowager, “that was 
in your mind when you took the monstrously 
audacious step of wantonly usurping another’s 
name to enter my Palace. Such wickedness was 
predestined not to succeed. ” 

A scarcely perceptible smile flitted across 
A-lu-te’s face. She was convinced of Fen-Sha’s 
safety by that mysterious and unerring knowledge 
which often comes to deeply loving hearts. Fleet- 
ing as her smile had been, the Empress Dowager 
saw it. With the swiftness of an electric shock 
passing through her, she understood. “Girl!” she 
exclaimed, her voice vibrating with amazement, 
anger, and something she could not define. “It 
was you who took the seal ring from my hand last 


Betrayed 


283 


night! What use did you make of it? Answer 
truthfully or Li shall tear the tongue from your 
head.” 

And A-lu-te told, nor did she in the telling omit 
a single detail of all that occurred that night. On 
one point only she kept silent ; she did not divulge 
Follingsbee’s name, nor the fact that a foreigner 
had aided her. With a dramatic touch which was 
an instinct of her nature, she told how she had softly 
removed the ring, having first soothed the Great 
Old Ancestor to sleep, and how, having affixed 
the seal to the order she had previously prepared 
commanding the immediate release of Fen-Sha, 
she had attempted to slip the ring back again where 
it belonged, and failing, because her Majesty had 
shifted her position while sleeping, she had instead 
hastily placed it upon the second finger of the left 
hand, and then hurried out into the night. She 
told of poling the imperial barge across the lake 
and of her swift run, skirting the Wilderness Park, 
to the green and yellow pagoda, where a Pechili 
coolie, she had previously bribed, awaited her. 
He took the fraudulent decree and rode that night 
by pony express to Tientsin. She told how the eu- 
nuchs came to bury their dead and she was forced 
to clamber into an empty niche in the pagoda and 
sit cross-legged, immovable, like a graven image 
of Sakya-muni while the eunuchs wailed their 
death- wail and prayed, and how in the midst of the 
burial service she had slipped down unobserved 
and hastened back to the imperial bedroom. 


284 The Breath of the Dragon 


The Empress Dowager listened, absorbed in the 
recital, fascinated in spite of herself by the courage, 
daring, and cleverness of this Manchu girl, whose 
love for her affianced husband, was passionate, 
impelling, overpowering, a love she too had once 
known and felt. She pressed her temples with 
her slender hands, tortured by a memory fixed 
deep in her heart. A-lu-te’s tale had struck an 
answering chord within her. She also would have 
risked her life rather than fail of such a purpose. 
One minute she was ready to forgive the girl, the 
next, the thought of the deception, the audacious 
trick she had played upon her, and the thwarting 
of her imperial will, roused her to fury. But even 
as she turned to the Chief Eunuch to command the 
immediate death of A-lu-te, her mood quickly 
changed again. A piercing pang shot through her 
heart, as a vision of the girl, dead at her feet, rose 
vividly before her; it seemed to her that never 
again would she want anything so much as to 
bring her back to life. 

Emotions, strange, conflicting, took frenzied 
possession of her. She longed for vengeance, she 
wanted to see the girl beaten, dragged by her hair 
about the room, made to suffer every refinement 
of torture known to the fertile brain of Li, and she 
wanted to gather her to her bosom, weep over her, 
caress her. 

Suddenly she remembered the memorial Tsing 
had written, a memorial concerning his adopted 
daughter. The thought brought with it a certain 


Betrayed 


285 


calm. The memorial might even now have ar- 
rived in the Palace, waiting her perusal. She 
would read it before deciding upon the fate of the 
girl. She turned to Li, who during A-lu-te’s 
recital had stood open-mouthed, astounded, and 
gave her orders. 

“Have eunuchs guard the pavilion and follow 
me to the Throne Room promptly. ” 

Without another word she left the room. At 
the door the Chief Eunuch turned swiftly back. 
His small heavy-lidded eyes had an evil glitter in 
them; he thrust his parchment wrinkled face close 
to A-lu-te. He snarled at her, showing his yellow 
teeth: “Tonight you will sleep well, your hands 
tied behind you; your head inside of them,” he 
laughed noiselessly and went out. 

He placed two guards at the front entrance of 
the pavilion, one at each side and one at the rear, 
then he hastened to the Throne Room. 

He found the Empress Dowager alone. Her 
attendants had been dismissed. She was pacing 
the spacious hall with quick, feverish steps. 

“Tsing’s memorial has not arrived,” she called 
out to him. “Is it possible he failed to send it 
after all?” 

“It may arrive tonight, Old Buddha,” said Li 
soothingly. 

Tzu Hsi paused in her restless pacing. “Li,” 
she asked, clasping her hands together to quiet 
her agitation, “of whom did this girl remind you 
in her rage?” 


286 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“Do you wish me to tell you, Old Buddha?” 

“I command you.” 

“Well, then,” he answered coolly, “she reminds 
me of a tigress gone mad. ” 

Tzu Hsi’s black keen eyes challenged his. 
“Think once more, look at me and answer. ” 

The Chief Eunuch had expected this question 
and was prepared for it. In his youth, a good 
actor, he had frequently taken part in plays pro- 
duced in the imperial theatre and delighted the 
young concubine Yi, now the illustrious Empress 
Dowager, by his skill and talent. He was still 
able to assume a part with tolerable success when 
the occasion offered, or necessity required. His 
own agitation was great, yet to all outward ap- 
pearance, he was calm, if not indifferent. He 
shrugged his shoulders. He must not permit her 
to suspect that he, too, had seen that startling 
resemblance, had recognized in the girl calling 
herself Wang-ti, not only the character and temper 
of Tzu Hsi, but, since his eyes were opened, the 
handsome features of the dead and gone An Te hai, 
the false eunuch. 

“I do not know; thanks be to Buddha, I never 
saw the like of her. ” 

“Certainly you are blind!” she cried angrily. 
Then her voice trembled, tears were in her eyes. 
“Li, I have been thinking of the past again. My 
deepest sorrow, my greatest joys lie there. The 
sweet of the hibiscus, the bitter of the artemisia, 
I have sucked them both. My words are impo- 


Betrayed 


287 


tent to express the thoughts that crowd in on me; 
my head aches and my heart is sore. How shall 
I get the plant of forgetfulness? In vain I have 
sought it, the thorn ferns of memory only I find.” 
She sank on a chair and wept softly. 

Li dropped upon his knees beside her and gently 
stroked her gown. “They shall be thorn ferns no 
more, ” he said soothingly; “see, I will change them 
like the magician in the theatre, into the fragrant 
lotus flowers of memory. Do you recall that day 
when you and he went sailing on the lake and he 
sat beside you on the Throne? He sang and 
played upon the lute and made songs about your 
loveliness, and indeed your beauty was like the 
sky at dawn. He swore your eyebrows were like 
the chrysalis of a moth, and the arch of your dainty 
foot was the phoenix’s crest. Do you remember ? ” 
“Till my hair is white I cannot forget. And 
later, under the stars, he called me ‘ night’s splen- 
dour.’ Our love was stable as the mountains, 
fathomless as the sea. Yet so soon he died and 
such a death! His glorious head cut off like any 
common thief ! When I think of it cold clouds of 
horror encompass me. ” 

“Seek consolation in the thought, Old Buddha, 
that your spiteful colleague, the Eastern Empress, 1 
forfeited her own life, when she wrote the decree 
commanding his decapitation.” 

“Aye, I poisoned her ; the death was too good for 
her. Do you remember, Li, when my months were 
1 Teu An. 


288 The Breath of the Dragon 


fulfilled and I was delivered of a daughter — how 
straight her little limbs, how rosy! — and I again 
found joy. His child and mine! What rainbow 
dreams I dreamed of her future ! 

“I dared not keep her with me, lest rumours of 
her birth which had gone abroad became verified ; 
but I could see her often and longed for the time 
when she should be ten years old and I could have 
her brought to the Palace to remain with me always. 
She died before one year had crowned her little 
head, died, they said, of smallpox and I could not 
even look upon her lying on her tiny cock-crow 
pillow. Indeed my sorrows have been great and 
many; my heart is palsied by afflictions. Before 
the establishment of autumn, the frost falls 
destroyed my flower-scented happiness. ” Her 
weeping became more violent. The Chief Eunuch, 
whose affection for his royal mistress was the only 
good in a character thoroughly evil, sought in 
vain to comfort her. 

“ Li, ” she said abruptly, “had my little lustrous 
one lived, she would have resembled the girl in 
yonder pavilion. Incessantly this thought re- 
turns to me, what if — ” she paused and looked 
pleadingly at the eunuch, filled with a hope she did 
not dare express. Li read her thought, but that 
which was her hope, was his menace, and his 
lips remained sealed. He hated A-lu-te with a 
hatred even greater than he gave to Kuang Hsu 
and he feared her more. For the young Emperor 
he feared not at all. That puppet he told himself 


Betrayed 


289 


would never rule while Tzu Hsi lived, nor after- 
wards either, for he would die when she died, 
perhaps before. But with the other, it was differ- 
ent; already her influence over the Old Buddha 
had assumed alarming proportions threatening to 
rival, then destroy, his own. “Impossible,” he 
said, “do not let your heart cherish a hope so 
utterly vain. Remember Prince Kung saw the 
little one in her coffin.” 

1 ‘ Aye, but the face so scarred and swollen with the 
fatal sickness, he might easily have been mistaken 
and seen some child not mine. Moreover I have 
never wholly trusted Prince Kung, and not then 
any more than now, so I sent you to see the 
child.” 

“Yes, I saw her, it was she without the shadow 
of a doubt. Think no more of it, Old Buddha,” 
pleaded Li. 

“I will!” she said hotly. “You do not want a 
doubt of her death to come to me. And so well 
I know your vindictive nature, you are filled with 
fear and anger this minute because my heart 
yearns strangely for Hsiao Kuniang. She treated 
you with bitter scorn, with contempt — she called 
you coarse and ugly, a dog, and the sexless 
thing you are. No living soul but I has dared 
speak to you in like manner.” 

“Nor ever will,” he muttered between his teeth; 
“the shameless one, she shall suffer for those 
words.” 

“Bridle your tongue!” said Tzu Hsi sharply. 


19 


290 The Breath of the Dragon 


41 Not a hair of her head is to be touched till I 
command, do you clearly understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“I shall decide upon her fate when Tsing’s 
memorial comes. Go, see if couriers have arrived 
at the outer gate. Make haste.” 

It was seldom Tzu Hsi spoke so curtly to her 
favourite servant and intimate confidant. Li 
rose ; the flush on his face was succeeded by a livid 
pallor ; he kept his eyes lowered that the Empress 
Dowager might not see the anger flashing bale- 
fully from them. 

When he left her presence he did not seek the 
outer gate but hastened instead to his own pavilion. 
Entering his private room, where he received and 
examined all communications addressed to the 
Empress Dowager before they were presented to 
her, he first satisfied himself that he was alone, 
then he locked the door and going to the red 
lacquer box took from it Tsing’s memorial. It 
had been in his possession over ten days. He 
spread the document on the table and prepared 
to read it. He felt anxious and excited. If this 
girl proved to be, as he himself now entertained 
small doubt that she was, the daughter of Tzu Hsi, 
his power was gone. The girl’s influence would be 
greater than his; she would exert it to crush him, 
and perhaps even to chase him from the Palace. 
He ground his teeth at the thought. He leaned 
over the finely drawn characters of the memorial 
and read : 


Betrayed 

tsing’s memorial 


291 


I, your Majesty’s unworthy servant Tsing-Li-Hoh, 
soon to breathe my last by divine command, present 
upon my knee this my last memorial. I being dis- 
graced am debarred from addressing the Throne 
through the proper channels. But the subject upon 
which your worthless servant ventures to memorialize 
is grave and pertains to affairs private and personal 
of your Majesty. Therefore I have urged the magis- 
trate of my native town to forward this document 
and, without disclosing to him the text, I gave him to 
understand that it was of paramount importance to 
your Majesty. He realized that a request from one 
about to leave the world who in life had never wit- 
tingly uttered an untruth or violated the main prin- 
ciples of duty and honour should not be refused. I 
reverently entreat your Majesty to cast her gracious 
eye upon this my last utterance. Then I die content. 

I pray your Majesty to recall a certain year after 
his Majesty Hsien-Feng mounted the dragon and 
ascended on high and in the deep seclusion of your 
Palace you held the reins of government in your hands. 
My official duties brought me to Peking. One night 
a man dressed as a palace eunuch came to summon me 
to the Yellow City. I went, following his cart in my 
chair. We descended at a small gate near the East 
Gate Glorious. Silently I was led to a room in a pa- 
vilion near the Palace of Peaceful Longevity where 
your Majesty resided. I waited for two hours and 
being but recently from a bed of sickness my fatigue 
overcame me and I slept. 

I was aroused by the entrance of the eunuch and an 
old woman, whom I later learned was your Majesty’s 


292 The Breath of the Dragon 


most trusted amah. She carried in her arms a care- 
fully enveloped sleeping infant. The eunuch told me 
to follow them. We returned to the small gate where 
my chair and the cart were waiting. The woman and 
the eunuch entered the cart. We repaired again to 
my house. Not until we were within my private 
apartments did the eunuch speak. Then he explained 
the mystery of these proceedings. He said your 
Majesty had deigned to confer upon me an inestimable 
proof of her trust and favour, by giving me charge of 
an infant of noble birth. The penalty of death, con- 
tinued the eunuch, would speedily follow any dis- 
closures on my part of the imperial favour. 

I received the infant — a girl child of perfect form 
and rosy health — into my household. I gave it out 
that she was a foundling picked up on the river bank 
where she had been left to perish. 

A week later, a certain Prince, closely connected 
with your Majesty, sent for me. He informed me 
that smallpox was extremely prevalent among the 
Peking infants and that vast numbers were dead and 
dying of the scourge and that if the girl foundling, 
recently brought to my house, succumbed to the dis- 
ease, I need entertain no fear of bringing down upon 
myself or upon members of my family the imperial 
wrath. In fact, he gave me clearly to understand 
that the death of the infant would be considered not 
a calamity, but a blessing. Still I pretended not to 
understand his meaning, whereupon he told me that 
rumours of the birth of a child in the Imperial Palace 
had spread abroad; that enemies of your Majesty 
were making efforts to prove the truth of these ru- 
mours, and that if they succeeded in audaciously 
substantiating the reports, it would be a menace to the 


Betrayed 


293 


Throne. As royal patriotic servants, he said, it 
became our duty to protect your Majesty from such a 
menace. 

I asked him if your Majesty had herself expressed 
a wish or command that the infant should perish. 
The Prince replied in the negative, but added that the 
peace and security of the Throne depended absolutely 
upon the people’s belief in the virtue of the ruler, and 
the infant’s continued existence was therefore exposing 
the Throne to a danger, both unnecessary and avoid- 
able. Calumny, he said, must be hushed. 

I had become attached to the girl-child; she was 
a dainty and dimpling little creature with eyes that 
laughed when I approached her. I determined 
she should not die. I lost no time in procuring an 
infant, recently dead of the smallpox, and sent word 
to the Prince that the girl-foundling in my house 
had succumbed to the scourge. He came in haste 
to see the child, who was too disfigured by the disease 
to be recognizable. A palace eunuch, sent by your 
Majesty, came also to look upon her and verify the 
truth of my report. Both were satisfied. Sub- 
sequently I was recalled to my former position in 
Shanghai. I departed taking the girl-child with me. 
She grew into a lovely maiden, dutiful to me, her 
adopted father, a daughter to enjoy and to be proud 
of because of her intelligence, her good sense and noble 
character. 

Before I fell under the ban of your Majesty’s august 
displeasure, she was betrothed to young Fen-Sha, 
the son of my late secretary. When the silken cord 
of self-despatch was sent to me and my family ban- 
ished, and Fen-Sha was condemned by imperial decree 
to the lingering death, A-lu-te — for so I named the 


294 The Breath of the Dragon 


girl — sought my consent to journey to Peking, intro- 
duce herself into your august presence, and plead for 
the life of her betrothed. 

The audacity of the plan which she imparted to me 
was transcendent, nevertheless I did not withhold 
from her my permission to attempt its execution, for 
it appeared to me that Buddha himself had inspired 
her with this idea. 

I have not to reproach myself with violating the 
trust imposed upon me by disclosing to her the secret 
of her birth. She does not know she is your Majesty’s 
daughter. The courage which has helped to make the 
Dowager Empress’s fame great in the land is hers, as 
is the charm of her personality. Your Majesty will 
not fail to recognize her. That she may be dealt with 
leniently by your Majesty and receive the beneficent 
protection, is my last prayer, my last hope, my last 
words. 

Prostrate before the Throne I present this my 
memorial. 

Li sat motionless, his little eyes glued upon 
Tsing’s memorial. Finally he rose, lighted a 
lantern, and deliberately held the paper in the 
flames until it was reduced to ashes. These he 
carefully gathered, and striding to a large porcelain 
pot in which an oleander grew, he dug holes in the 
earth around the roots of the plant and buried the 
ashes. This done, he unlocked the door, left his 
pavilion, and sought the outer gates. He inquired 
of the guards if couriers had arrived; receiving a 
negative reply, he returned to the imperial pavilion 
to report the fact. 


Betrayed 


295 


“No courier has come, Old Buddha. I have 
sent two guards to ride out on the Peking road 
and watch for him. Have patience. If Tsing 
really did memorialize the Throne, his message 
will arrive today. 


CHAPTER XIX 


CONCERNING PALACE EUNUCHS AND A PALACE 
PRISONER 

When A-lu-te became convinced that the Em- 
press Dowager and the Chief Eunuch had left the 
pavilion, she flew to her K’ang and drew out with 
feverish haste the Lama costume which Chou- 
Chau had stolen from the theatrical wardrobe. 

She adjusted the bald wig over her glossy hair, 
which she had previously braided and wound 
about her head. She slipped on the yellow gown 
and pulled the huge yellow hat well down over her 
eyes. Then she hurried to Chou-Chau’s chamber. 
She wanted to embrace her friend once more and 
say farewell. She found her lying as she had left 
her on the K’ang. A terrible change had taken 
place in her appearance. Chou- Chau’s eyes 
seemed to be gazing straight at her, but with a 
fixed and glassy stare. Her jaw had dropped 
open; where the paint was rubbed from her face 
the skin had a yellow pallor not seen in life. 

Chou-Chau w T as dead. The wretched little 
cicada had cast off her shell and flown forth to 
freedom, flown from the Summer Palace, the prison 
296 


Palace Eunuchs and Prisoners 297 

which held her for two long dreadful years. With 
a sob A-lu-te turned to leave the room. The out- 
side door opened. Someone entered the pavilion. 
A-lu-te held her breath. Was it the Chief Eunuch 
who had come back? She snatched off her Lama’s 
disguise and thrust it back in the firehole of the 
K’ang. Then she went into the central hall. A 
eunuch was peering through the curtains of her 
room; he was Ho-Shu, the Chief Eunuch’s creature. 

A-lu-te called sharply to him. He turned with a 
start ; the puzzled expression on his face changed 
to a satisfied sneer on seeing her. 

“Go,” she said, “go and ” 

“Since when is it permitted prisoners to give 
commands?” he interrupted insolently. 

“Go,” repeated A-lu-te, ignoring both his speech 
and manner, “and announce that the Lady Chou- 
Chau has passed into the spirit world. ” 

To assure himself of the truth of this statement, 
the eunuch went into Chou-Chau’s room. He 
soon reappeared and leisurely left the pavilion 
to seek the Chief Eunuch and report the death. 
The Lady Chou-Chau had been of no importance 
in her lifetime ; her demise would scarcely excite 
more interest than that of an insignificant servant. 
He need not hurry with the news, which he indiffer- 
ently flung out to the guards, stationed at the 
pavilion door, as he sauntered off. They in 
turn shouted it to the eunuchs guarding the sides 
and rear of the pavilion, at the same time adding 
that it would not be long before someone else 


29B The Breath of the Dragon 


took up her abode in the spirit world. They all 
laughed. One fellow with loose, flabby lips said 
he trusted the dark journey of that other one would 
not be long delayed, for he had promised the little 
eunuchs to show them how to sew up the eyelids 
of their birds and how to place them in open spaces 
where circling hawks could see them and be lured 
to swoop down upon them. The sport was good, 
also the hawks were easily captured by the trick. 
But if he were compelled to stand all day guarding 
the pavilion because it had been turned into an 
“ empty chamber” (a prison in the Palace) he 
would have to forgo the fun, and the little eunuchs 
would find someone else to help them in their 
sport. 

“If the Old Buddha catches them at it, she will 
fly into a rage and have them well punished, ” said 
another. “Do you remember when Ying caught 
those crows and we tied lighted firecrackers to 
their legs and then set the crows free? How high 
the creatures flew to be sure before the explosion 
came and how small the feathered pieces were that 
dropped down upon us! Never have I latighed 
so much! Unfortunately the Old Buddha hap- 
pened upon us just then, — her fury was terrific.” 

“So were the bamboo beatings you received,” 
laughed a third eunuch. They had drawn together 
as they talked; the eunuchs at the sides and rear 
of the pavilion were bunched together at one 
corner in order to converse with greater facility 
with those guarding the front entrance. 


Palace Eunuchs and Prisoners 299 

“Have you heard the news about S’ang?” asked 
one, whose stature was small, though his rotundity 
was enormous. 

“What of the dolt? Has someone peeled the 
skin of his face again?” (taken all his money). 

“ No, he is sent to the Winter Palace to be reader 
to the Emperor.” 

“Reader! Bah! he has a voice like a croaking 
raven. That little beast always has luck.” 

“Well, I, for one, am glad we're rid of him,” 
remarked the third eunuch; “he and I are like 
this with one another,” and the speaker put the 
knuckles of his forefingers together. 

“It's my belief that S’ang is more than half 
foreign devil,’ ’ said the short rotund eunuch. ‘ ‘ Just 
before he left we were on night duty at the inner 
gate. I was speaking to him of that barbarian 
doctor priest who was killed in Wuchang by the 
populace because he was caught puncturing the 
eyes of children with a sharp needle concealed in 
cotton with which he pretended to heal their sore 
eyelids. He and other devil doctors, as you all 
know, use the humours they thus vilely obtain, 
for medicine. S’ang tried to make me think it was 
a silly lie, so I drew on the ground with a piece of 
chalk a cross such as foreign devils hold sacred 
and told him I would believe it a lie if he would 
spit on the cross. What think you he did?” 

“A wager he spat! We’re all good Buddhists 
here, even S’ang, ” cried one. “Two hundred cash 
he spat!” 


300 The Breath of the Dragon 

4 

“Taken!” cried another, “nay more, three to 
one, he didn’t. If his mouth is like his talk, it’s too 
dry to make spittle. ” 

“Ho — excellent!” laughed the first speaker. 

“What say you, Pambo?” 

The eunuch appealed to was of gigantic propor- 
tions, and, while his great muscles were covered 
with more flesh than becomes an athlete, their 
strength still seemed prodigious. 

The giant growled surlily, “My purse is empty 
as if it had been washed. How then should I 
bet?” 

The small rotund eunuch winked slyly at the 
others and said, “Wait till you hear the rest of 
the story. ” 

They gathered around him with no pretence of 
keeping to their posts. “Go on — tell us,” they 
cried eagerly. 

“Well, S’ang stooped and drew a large ring, then 
he carefully rubbed out all trace of the cross. 
'Now,’ he said, 'I have another plan, better than 
yours. I’ll get Pambo — he’s on guard in the next 
* court — and I will agree to throw him in a wrestling 
match, inside this ring — if I fail I’ll say that your 
devil doctor tale is true.’” 

“How! That little cricket tried to throw 
Pambo!” they exclaimed and laughed uproari- 
ously at the mere thought. But Pambo turned 
his back sulkily on his admiring companions and 
strolled back to his post. 

“You know well,” continued the first speaker, 


Palace Eunuchs and Prisoners 301 

‘‘that no one has ever yet been able to stand up 
against Pambo and that S’ang should attempt it 
was ludicrous. Well, we called Pambo. When he 
heard that S’ang wished to wrestle with him, he 
came, none too pleased that such a cricket should 
dare challenge him. ‘If you are in haste to get 
your legs broken or your neck cracked,’ growled 
Pambo, stretching himself, ‘ come on S ’ ‘ W ait a mo- 
ment till I drink, ’ said S’ang. When he returned 
he stepped boldly into the ring. Pambo thrust out 
his monstrous arms to seize him, when, poof! S’ang, 
who had his pig mouth full of water, squirted it 
into Pambo’s face, and, before he could recover 
from his surprise, S’ang rushed at him, caught him 
around the legs, and down he went. ” 

The four eunuchs shouted with laughter. 

A-lu-te had listened to their talk with a feeling 
of repulsion, which later changed to indifference. 

Afterwards her attention was attracted, not to 
the subject matter of their conversation, but to the 
fact that their voices appeared to reach her from 
one direction only. She ran to the window which 
gave on the rear of the pavilion and looked out. A 
thrill came over her: the guard who had stood 
beneath this window was gone! Her release was 
possible now! Should she hasten back to the 
death chamber for the Lama’s gown and hat? 
She hesitated, but for an instant only. She was 
fearful lest the eunuch return to his deserted post 
before she had time to don the garments and so 
lose what might be her only chance of escape. 


302 The Breath of the Dragon 


Cautiously she pushed open the long, wide window; 
the distance to the ground was only a few feet. 
A-lu-te stepped on the sill. She lingered just long 
enough to assure herself that no one was in sight. 
Then she jumped. Her feet had scarcely touched 
the ground when the tall powerful form of Pambo 
appeared around the corner of the pavilion. He 
was strolling leisurely back to his post. He 
stopped, stared at A-lu-te, and, in three long strides, 
silently seized her. With no pretence of gentle- 
ness, he lifted her in his huge arms, swung her 
once, and deliberately shot her through the open 
window back into her room. He might have been 
throwing a cat up in the air for all the effort he 
expended or noise made. 

Stunned by the fall, A-lu-te lay on the floor 
motionless. After a time she regained conscious- 
ness. She felt faint and giddy. With difficulty 
she dragged herself to Chou-Chau’s room. She 
understood vaguely that her only hope of escape 
now lay in the Lama’s dress. She drew it on me- 
chanically. She intended to hide in the K’ang 
till the priests came to say their prayers over the 
body of Chou-Chau, and, when they left the pavil- 
ion, step out with them. There was a bare chance 
that they would not speak to or notice her, that 
they would take her to be one of themselves. 

Moved by a sudden impulse to make obeisance 
to the spirit of the departed, she dropped on her 
knees. She had learnt to love as well as pity poor, 
little, unhappy Chou-Chau. As she knelt she 


Palace Eunuchs and Prisoners ^303 

suddenly stiffened with terror. She had not heard 
the entrance door open, yet she was aware of the 
sound of soft footsteps in the room and close be- 
hind her. She could not move even had she so 
desired ; now the soft steps stopped ; someone was 
close to her, so close their garments touched. Who 
was it ? Her heart cried out in fear, but the cry 
did not pass her lips. Slowly, as if compelled by 
some fearful magnetism, she raised her eyes. 
The Chief Eunuch stood beside her. His fat lips 
were drawn away from his teeth in a smile. At 
sight of him she was seized by a despair that 
struck to the innermost depths of her soul. Her 
ice-cold hands trembled under her long sleeves. 
The silence around them was sepulchral. Even 
the eunuchs’ voices outside had ceased. Why 
did he not seize her ? Why did he remain standing 
there towering over her kneeling form like a sinister 
colossus ? Was he gloat ing over her helpless terror ? 
What diabolical torture had he in store for her? 
She had hear cl tales from Chou-Chau of Li’s 
dark deeds of cruelty perpetrated in secret cham- 
bers of the Palace, tales too horrible to dwell upon. 
The impulse to shriek aloud became stronger, but 
her stiffened lips refused to open. Her brain 
reeled ; she felt a sense of faintness stealing over her. 
By a violent effort she mastered herself. Suspense 
had become intolerable, she determined to confront 
him and demand to know what doom awaited her. 
She rose from her knees. The Chief Eunuch gave 
no sign of being conscious of her movement. He 


304 The Breath of the Dragon 

»• -%&> 

was bending over the body of Chou-Chau, ap- 
parently engrossed in studying the ghastly face. 

“She is even uglier in death than she was when 
alive,” he said brutally, without turning his head, 
“Well, say your prayers over her — much good may 
they do her — I go to order the coffin. ” 

He smiled slyly and left the room. A-lu-te felt, 
rather than saw, the curtain drop behind him. 
She was alone. She put her hand to her forehead, 
confused, amazed, breathless. Was it possible 
he had not recognized her? Fear — and hope — 
the most tenacious of human sentiments — alter- 
nately took possession of her. Would he go to 
her room, discover her absence, and becoming sus- 
picious of the silent priest, return to the death 
chamber? She listened with strained attention. 
The soft footsteps did not linger, they continued 
down the central hall. She heard the outer door 
open and Li’s voice speaking to the eunuchs. The 
words “priest’s prayers” reached her distinctly. 
Again despair seized her; surely the guard would 
tell him that no priest had entered the pavilion! 
She waited in an agony of suspense, but Li did 
not return. She crept back to her own room and 
peered through the curtains of the windows. In 
the distance she saw Li hurrying off. Scarcely 
realizing what she did, she went into the hall, 
threw open the front door, and deliberately, with- 
out show of haste, walked out of the pavilion. 
Here she saw that Li had changed the guards; 
instead of two eunuchs at the entrance, Ho-Shu 


Palace Eunuchs and Prisoners 305 


was pacing back and forth. He looked up as she 
came out, but made no attempt to stop or speak 
to her. A-lu-te felt a strange uneasiness, an 
apprehension in this very fact. She wanted to 
run, but dared not. She passed from the court; 
the gate was not locked. No one was in sight. 
She hurried on, traversing court after court, pass- 
ing eunuchs idly loitering, or intent upon some 
errand; gardeners at work; tired-eyed slave-girls, 
hastening to their mistresses. No one noticed 
the youthful Lama priest walking with bent head, 
as if engrossed in meditation. 

She was approaching the outer and last court of 
the Palace. Would the sentinels challenge her 
right to pass the gates? She was ignorant of the 
rules governing priests dwelling in the Summer 
Palace. With beating heart she walked on. The 
gates were very near now; a few steps more and 
she would be outside the Palace walls. Then she 
heard the Chief Eunuch’s voice behind her. 

“What news of the courier?” he called. 

“None, Lord of Nine Thousand Years,” replied 
the sentinels obsequiously. 

“Open the gates, I would look out on the road. ” 
As he passed A-lu-te he turned his head toward her. 
His small eyes had a look of infinite malice, of 
subtle mockery in their depths. Slowly A-lu-te 
followed him. Intense terror had so frozen her 
power of thought, she had become merely a 
mechanism propelled onward by an energy that, 
though withdrawn, was still feebly working. At 


20 


306 The Breath of the Dragon 


the gate, she paused, shivered, unable to move. 
She felt herself pushed forward. The next minute 
she was outside of the Empress Dowager’s Summer 
Palace; the gates were closed and locked behind 
her. 

'‘Sir Lama, if you meet a courier on the road, 
bid him make haste, we — the Old Buddha and I 
— are waiting for him. ” 

It was the voice of the Chief Eunuch. He had 
thrust open a panel in the great centre gate and 
was gazing after her with a hideous expression of 
merriment. The panel was closed and the coarse 
face disappeared. A-lu-te stood still. Why had 
the Chief Eunuch allowed her to leave the Palace ? 
Was it possible that the Empress Dowager still 
protected her and that he dared not kill her while 
she remained inside the Palace walls? There was 
no doubt in her mind that he was hatching some 
evil plot against her and intended capturing her 
outside the Palace grounds. Why, therefore, she 
asked herself, should she run? Why seek to hide 
herself from his vindictive pursuit? Was not his 
wicked eye watching even now her slightest move- 
ment? 

; The sun was hot; a short distance off, stood a 
clump of trees and bushes. A-lu-te sought the 
shade and sank despondently on the ground to 
wait the coming of the Chief Eunuch. 

Before her stretched the long sinuous highway 
leading to Peking. Fields of Kaoliang and scat- 
tered villages dotted the broad landscape. In 


Palace Eunuchs and Prisoners 307 

the bushes near her, a peasant boy was lying prone 
upon the ground. Something in the rigidness of 
his attitude attracted her attention. She looked 
again and more carefully. The boy was dead. A 
sudden thought came to her and with it hope, 
which so often sickens and so seldom dies in the 
human heart, revived within her. She glanced 
fearfully over her shoulders. The Palace gates 
were closed, so were the slides in their great panels. 
No guard was in sight. It might be that Li, sure 
of his victim, was for a time not watching. She 
crouched low, close to the dead body. 

A few minutes later a young peasant boy 
emerged from the clump of trees and ran rapidly 
towards a field of Kaoliang. 

From the round tower on the wall, the Chief 
Eunuch watched the boy disappear among the 
tall, waving stalks and laughed noiselessly. Then 
he called his henchman, Ho-Shu, and gave him 
certain minute instructions. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE INN OF PEACE AND SECURITY 

The village of Yang-lin lies on the great Pechili 
plain, halfway between Peking and the Sum- 
mer Palace. The village consists of a long street 
lined on each side with a miserable agglomeration 
of mud houses. Many of them were crumbling 
away, the ruins serving as refuge for half-starved 
dogs or myriads of large rats. 

Yet the village was not as povery-stricken as 
its general appearance seemed to indicate. The 
inhabitants were fairly well-to-do and their little 
farms flourishing. 

Among the better buildings and conspicuous for 
its cleanliness, was the Inn of Peace and Security. 
Its lime-washed exterior made it a landmark in the 
near countryside and offered an agreeable contrast 
to the gloomy aspect of the other houses. 

The prosperity of the inn of Peace and Security 
depended upon travellers from the north passing 
through Yang-lin on their way to Peking. The 
courtyard of this inn one evening held a noisy 
assembly of men and animals. With the caravan 
which had just arrived from the north were two or 
308 


The Inn of Peace and Security 309 


three Buddhist bonzes going to the capital to 
witness a Lama Bokte manifest his power at the 
noon hour of the next day. The manifestation 
had been purposely delayed to permit the pil- 
grims from the north more time in which to reach 
Peking. Among the shaven-headed bonzes — 
their bald pates disfigured with small black marks 
made by the application of hot irons — were 
wandering Tibetan Lamas, men from Mongolia, 
men from the Khalkhas, itinerant Chinese traders, 
pawnbrokers from the neighbouring villages 
ready to prey upon the simple ingenuous north 
country men, for, in commercial intercourse, the 
Chinese consider the Tartars legitimate and 
natural subjects for fleecing. 

Among the guests was our fat little Mongol 
friend, the owner of Lla, the racing camel. His 
tents were pitched outside the village ; he had left 
them in charge of his servant while he paid a visit 
to the host of the Inn of Peace and Security. The 
innkeeper had formerly resided in Tart ary and, 
having prospered there, had returned to China 
and established himself in his native village with 
his Mongolian wife. The little Mongol bustled 
about the inn full of interest and curiosity concern- 
ing the affairs of others, especially their culinary 
preparations, which he did not hesitate to examine 
and criticize. He lifted the lids from pots, dipped 
his finger in the contents, and carefully licking it, 
advised either the addition of some condiment or 
a little less salt or meal or a little more garlic. 


3io The Breath of the Dragon 


The guests who were preparing their own food 
offered no protests to these proceedings. It was 
otherwise when he strolled into the large kitchen, 
where the innkeeper’s wife was engaged in cooking 
for guests who had no culinary arrangements. He 
removed the lid from a huge pot of meat, plunged 
his hand in and drew out some of the contents, 
tasted it and commented adversely upon its 
flavour. She retorted with a swift and brilliant 
enumeration of his vicious characteristics and the 
worthlessness of all his ancestors from the begin- 
ning of time. Her husband endeavoured to stop 
her volley of invectives. She turned upon him 
instead. 

“Do you take me for a Chinese woman who 
slaves all day for her worthless husband, only to 
receive abuse?” she shouted. “You are a lazy, 
shameless rogue, passing your time drinking and 
gambling, while I labour to keep the establishment 
from ruin.” 

“You keep the establishment from ruin!” he 
cried. “Huh! Every day of the year your 
bitter tongue and evil temper drive travellers from 
my doors. I call all here to witness if what I say 
is not true. ” 

The guests to whom he appealed remained silent, 
exhibiting no sign of interest in the controversy, 
while the little Mongol calmly proceeded to exam- 
ine the contents of another pot upon the clay oven. 

“ It is the cudgel that you need and plenty of it, ” 
continued the landlord loudly. 


The Inn of Peace and Security 31 1 

The wife strode up to him with a challenging air. 

4 ‘Well, since I need the cudgel why do you not 
give it to me? ” She stood with her arms akimbo, 
close to him. Although she had lived in China 
many years, she had refused to adopt the dress of 
the native women, preferring to retain the attire 
worn by her own country people. It consisted of 
high leather boots, and a long loose garment fas- 
tened at the waist by a girdle. This manner of 
dress enhanced the masculine appearance nature 
had originally endowed her with. 

“Come, ” she cried, “cudgel me!” 

She looked formidable and the husband, who 
was a small man, involuntarily retreated. Here- 
upon the travellers in the room burst into a roar 
of laughter. Exasperated beyond endurance, the 
innkeeper sprang forward, and, forgetting his fear 
of her, planted a formidable box on her ear. 

Everyone expected the woman would revenge 
herself upon her marital corrector of manners and 
insubordination, by half, if not wholly, killing him. 
They rose to their feet, ready to separate the com- 
batants. But the woman turned without a word 
and quietly resumed her interrupted cooking, 
while the innkeeper loftily pronounced these 
words: “A husband must know how to maintain 
peace and order in his household. ” 

During this scene a boy slipped unobserved into 
the room and squatted on the floor in a corner 
near the oven. He appeared exhausted from fa- 
tigue. When the woman returned to her cook- 


313 The Breath of the Dragon 


ing he addressed her in a low voice: “Give me 
to eat and a bit of matting to lie on, then let me 
sleep undisturbed in this corner — I am weary. ” 
He held out some money, more than sufficient to 
pay for a meal and a night’s lodging. Had she 
been less perturbed by the unexpected masterful- 
ness of her meek husband, she might have noticed 
the slender shape, the small size of the hand which 
was thrust out to her. She gave him food and he 
ate with avidity. “Now, the matting, Oh beauti- 
ful one.” The woman gave a little grunt of 
contempt at such flattery, though manifestly it 
pleased her. She flung him a piece of matting ; he 
covered himself with it and went to sleep. 

The Mongol seated himself at the long table 
with the other guests and ordered a bowl of the 
mutton stew he had tasted, together with rice, 
and prepared to enjoy his repast in excellent com- 
pany. He drew forth his snuff -bottle, suspended 
from his girdle, and offered it to his neighbours. 
They took a pinch and in turn offered him their 
snuff-bottles. They exchanged questions and 
answers customary among travellers. 

“Did you travel in peace?” 

“I travelled in peace.” 

“Has your honourable journey been long?” 

“It has indeed been long.” 

“Where did you come from?” 

“From Wang-po. ” 

“That is in Northern Mongolia, is it not?” 

“Yes; it is also where the Bokte Lama comes 


The Inn of Peace and Security 313 

from who is to manifest his power tomorrow in 
Peking.” 

“What will he do besides collecting all the money 
people will give him for his Lamasery in Tartary? ” 
asked the Chinese pawnbroker with something of 
a sneer. 

“ I have said he will manifest his power. ” 

“Well, I, for one, do not believe he has any 
power different from our Pechili bonzes. There 
was one who built himself a little booth outside 
my cousin’s shop in Peking and he nailed his cheek 
to the door of the booth and stood there for an 
entire week. He had a sign up telling the people 
he had made a vow not to remove the nail until 
he had raised a certain sum of money to repair his 
temple in the Eastern Hills. At the end of the 
week, when he collected more than half the sum, 
he died, still standing with his cheek nailed to the 
door. What power did he manifest? None! 
Any one can do as much!” 

“Doubtless you speak the truth concerning the 
Chinese bonzes, but with the Bokte Lamas in my 
country it is different. I, myself, have made the 
pilgrimage to the Lamasery of Rache-tchurin to 
witness the manifestation which took place there 
two years ago.” 

“Well, and what took place?” asked the pawn- 
broker, skeptically. 

“The Bokte killed himself, yet did not die,” 
returned the Mongol solemnly. 

“Yes, yes,” exclaimed several voices from the 


314 


The Breath of the Dragon 


other end of the table. “We have heard that in 
the Lamaseries of Tibet and Mongolia there are 
Lamas who perform miraculous operations. What 
did this Bokte Lama you saw?” 

“Brothers, I will relate what I witnessed,” said 
the Mongol. “Many pilgrims journeyed that year 
to the Lamasery I spoke of. When the appointed 
day came, we assembled in the great court of the 
Lamasery. An altar was raised before the temple 
gates. The Lamas ranged themselves in a circle 
around the altar and recited aloud invocations to 
Buddha. The Bokte appeared. He was a young 
man, weak and thin from many days of fasting. 
He did not belong to the higher ranks of Lamas, 
though his piety had brought renown to the 
Lamasery. He seated himself on the altar and 
took from his girdle a long, sharp knife which he 
laid on his knees. He sat there quite immovable 
like an image of stone. The Lamas prayed louder 
and louder and faster and faster, till it was like a 
whirlwind of sound we listened to. The prayers 
ceased of a sudden. The Bokte trembled violently, 
then sprang up, threw aside his garment, and, with 
his sacred knife, ripped wide his stomach from top 
to bottom. The blood squirted high, then flowed 
like a river swelled from the rains. We pilgrims 
prostrated ourselves before the pious spectacle; 
many interrogated the Bokte concerning events 
hidden from mortal eye and all of them he an- 
swered. The prayers of the kneeling Lamas were 
then resumed, but quietly, softly. The Bokte 


The Inn of Peace and Security 315 


passed his hand rapidly over his wound to close 
it. He wrapped his garment about him, recited 
a prayer, and disappeared behind the doors of the 
temple, perfectly healed and stronger in body 
than before.” 

The Mongol ceased speaking. 

“Wonderful ! wonderful ! ” exclaimed his listeners. 

“Wonderful indeed; you may witness a like 
miracle in Peking tomorrow,” said the Mongol. 

“We will go to witness it, ” they cried in chorus. 

Only the pawnbroker shook his head. “Go, if 
you wish, you will have your trouble for nothing. 
The young Emperor will not permit the manifes- 
tations. My cousin, he who lives in Peking, says 
the Solitary One has now forbidden Buddhist 
zealots to collect money in the capital by public 
exhibitions of self-mutilations.” 

“Your cousin’s talk is foolishness,” declared 
one of the travellers. ‘ ‘ Does he live in Peking and 
yet not know what all the world knows, that, 
though Kuang Hsu reigns, he does not rule ? Now, 
if the Old Buddha wishes to stop this manifesta- 
tion it will be stopped, you may be sure, and not 
otherwise. ” 

“The Benign Mother would never decry the 
merit and sanctity of the holy priests of Buddha, 
or interfere with their sacred spectacles,” cried 
a traveller from the Khalkhas. 

“Bah! The Benign Mother will do exactly 
as she pleases without regard to any one’s merits 
or sanctity. ” . 


3i 6 The Breath of the Dragon 


“Well, I care not whether the manifestations 
take place or not; I have business in Peking. I 
go to sell some fine camels in the Mongol market. ” 
This reminded our little Mongol friend of his 
parting with his Bactrian camel, and he proceeded 
to relate to the company the events of the previous 
night, telling them in detail of his conversation 
with the stranger who had come to his tent and 
who had offered to purchase Lla, an offer promptly 
rejected, and, finally, of the wager that they had 
made. The men were interested. “What did 
the stranger call himself?” they asked, amazed 
that any Chinese would try to ride a racing camel, 
and, moreover, for a distance of three hundred Its 
in one day. 

“I do not know his name; he was neither Tartar, 
Tibetan, nor Chinese — he may have been a Dchia- 
hour (from India) — his country lies to the West. ” 
“Ho!” said a Chinese merchant with infinite 
scorn, “you do not know his name or country and 
expect him to return with your camel and pay his 
bet! Truly you Tartars are easily gulled.” 

“He will return — moreover he paid the full price 
of the camel, though Buddha is witness I did not 
sell my Lla ! Also he left with me this. ” He drew 
a large gold watch from his pocket and proudly 
demonstrated its manner of announcing the hour 
in the dark. All were impressed ; even the Chinese 
pawnbroker admitted that the watch was of 
marvellous mechanism and valuable. Just then 
a loud voice was heard in the court. 


The Inn of Peace and Security 317 


A shrieking and protesting bonze burst into the 
room followed by some half dozen Bannermen. 
They seized him, tearing his clothes in the struggle, 
and were apparently endeavouring to peel the 
skin from his dirty bald pate. 

'‘Will you allow this wickedness? ” he yelled, 
“See, so have they treated every priest of us out 
there — rent our garments, scratched and tom our 
heads, sacrilege unspeakable — and for what I 
ask, for what? Because we are disciples of the 
Holy One, because we heal the sick with prayers, 
because we — ” he choked with rage and could not 
continue. 

No one came to his assistance. The little Mon- 
gol indeed was horrified at such treatment being 
accorded a man of Buddha. He rose precipitately 
and would have rushed to the rescue had not the 
men on either side of him held him down. 

“Keep your seat!” they whispered a good na- 
tured warning in his ear. “These are Bannermen 
of the Heavenly Tiger Corps stationed near the 
Summer Palace, arrogant, reckless rascals, whose 
ill-will you had best not excite. Besides, it is but 
a dirty, stinking bonze after all.” 

Most Chinese entertain the liveliest contempt 
for those who enter the idle life of the priesthood, 
whether these be Lamas from the great Lamas- 
eries of Tibet and Tartary, or begging bonzes, or 
priests from the rich Buddhist temples scattered 
over the land. The Mongolians and Tibetans, on 
the contrary, are a devout people and regard the 


318 The Breath of the Dragon \ 

men “who leave their families” to serve Buddha 
with a degree of veneration seldom, if ever, ac- 
corded them elsewhere. 

The Bannermen, after satisfying themselves 
that the bonze’s bald pate was not removable, 
threw him contemptuously aside. He gathered 
his torn raiment around him and showered curses 
on the Bannermen as fast as his tongue could 
waggle. 

“Throw that squealing pig out ! ” ordered the big 
corporal. The bonze was seized and summarily 
ejected. 

Then the Bannerman inspected the men at the 
table. 

“Well, ” said the merchant, “what do you think 
of us?” 

“That!” retorted the big corporal snapping his 
thumb and forefinger under the merchant’s nose. 

“Sir Soldiers!” said the landlord stepping into 
the room and bowing obsequiously, “my humble 
establishment is greatly honoured by your pres- 
ence. What do your eminent distinctions command 
to eat?” 

“Think you we have come to eat in your vile 
inn, fellow? No ! we come to seek one who has fled 
from the Summer Palace disguised as a Lama. ” 

“A eunuch no doubt,” said the pawnbroker; 
“they are always running away.” 

! “This time it was a woman,” volunteered the 
corporal. 

“A slave-girl?” 


The Inn of Peace and Security 319 

The big corporal laid his finger on the side of his 
nose. “Do you think Li Lien Ying would raise 
such a hue and cry over a slave-girl ?” 

“Give command to your men that they search 
the village, Sir Captain, while you remain and 
share with me my food and relate this latest affair 
of the Palace,” urged the pawnbroker, whose 
relish was keen for scandal. 

The corporal’s smile of complaisance showed 
that the compliment of being taken for a captain 
had gone home. 

He issued his orders to the five Bannermen, then 
threw himself on the bench by the table and pro- 
ceeded to eat from the pawnbroker’s bowl with 
such unconstrained heartiness of appetite that 
the latter was disconcerted and already repented 
of his invitation. 

“Well, what of the woman?” he asked sulkily. 

The soldier tipped the bowl up and drank with 
loud suction the sauce from which he had eaten the 
succulent morsels of meat and garlic. He wiped 
his greasy chin on the back of his hand, coughed 
violently, spat out a bit of bone which had come 
near to choking him, then said coolly, “What of 
her? How should I know ? Li tells no more than 
he chooses and this time it was precious little.” 

“Is it for that you have devoured my food?” 
cried the pawnbroker angrily. ‘ ‘ Beyond question, 
your conduct is shameless.” 

“Softly, softly,” said the Bannerman, rendered 
good humoured by his free repast, “consult the 


320 The Breath of the Dragon 

dictates of reason instead of getting into a temper 
about nothing. I have said that Li’s tongue was 
silent, but is his the only tongue that W'ags in the 
Summer Palace? Among the eunuchs is one I 
know; he presides over the cooks in the Old 
Buddha’s kitchen and from him I learnt this — the 
woman is high in rank and not long in the Palace. 
The Old Buddha is in a towering rage because she 
has fled and has given orders that search be made 
not only in the villages roundabout, but in all the 
temples on the hills. 

“ It is rumoured that she stole the Old Buddha’s 
private seal to sign the release of a cursed rebel, 
Fen-Sha by name, who is condemned to the 
lingering death, and that she intrigued with some 
man outside the Palace to carry the decree to the 
Tientsin Yamen, where this Fen-Sha was in prison. 
A reward of five hundred taels is offered for the 
capture of the fellow who'carried the false decree. 
Nothing is known of him, except that he rode to 
Tienstin like a demon on a racing camel larger than 
any ever seen here before. ” 

At this all the men shouted and turned with one 
accord toward the Mongol. 

“Oh, the liar! the black-hearted knave! the 
arrant cheat! Did he not tell me he wanted my 
camel to carry to a sick friend some life-giving 
medicine obtained from a Living Buddha!” cried 
the little Mongol. “ He is an enemy to truth. Who 
now can assure me that I will see my Lla again! 
May the ancestors hate so great a villain!” 


The Inn of Peace and Security 321 


The Bannerman looked at him in astonishment. 

“’Twas your camel that he rode, say you?’* 
he demanded. The Mongol now repeated the 
story he had told the others of the stranger’s 
visit to his tent and of the wager he had made with 
him. The Bannerman listened with marked at- 
tention. 

“You are sure he agreed to return within the 
week with the camel ? And meet you at the hotel 
of the Five Felicities? Very good, I will be there 
to receive him. Now, listen carefully to what I 
say : if you would leave this place as happy as you 
came, keep silent on this matter. And you — and 
you — and you—” he eyed in turn severely each 
man seated at the table, “I will arrange for the 
capture of the fellow and ” 

‘ ‘And claim the five hundred taels reward,” mur- 
mured the pawnbroker. 

The Bannerman appeared not to hear, but con- 
tinued slowly, distinctly, “And I will not advise 
the authorities that all of you here have heard of 
this matter, and should be held as witnesses 
against him. ” 

To be held as witness is equivalent to being held 
prisoner in the Yamen, and every Chinese knows 
the adage advising the dead to keep out of hell and 
the living to keep out of Yamens. 

No other inducement was needed to seal their 
lips. The soldier waited idly a few minutes, then 
strolled towards the door. As he opened it, 
Ho-Shu glided in. The Bannerman started and, 


31 


322 The Breath of' the Dragon 

with a half-frightened, wholly deferential air, 
stood at attention. ‘‘What success?” asked Ho- 
Shu without looking at him ; his eyes were searching 
the room. 

“None as yet; I have searched here, my men 
are now going through every house in the village. 
I was about to join them even now. ” 

“Imbecile!” said Ho-Shu, and stepped softly 
past him to the clay oven. He stooped and with a 
sudden rapid motion raised a piece of matting 
from the floor. The white face of a boy looked up 
at him. The men in the room stared in surprise, 
looked closer and burst into a roar of laughter. 
This was not a boy, but a young woman, the 
runaway palace concubine! Here was spice and 
saki for them! They crowded around Ho-Shu, 
questioning, exclaiming, commenting. Ho-Shu 
paid them scant attention except to wave them 
back, nor did the woman speak. She had fainted. 
The eunuch picked her up, slung her over his shoul- 
der like a sack of charcoal-, and left the room, the 
court, in a word, left the inn of Peace and Security. 


CHAPTER XXI 

j \ 

BACK TO PEKING 

Billy Lade stood by the bed in the guest room 
of his bungalow, mopping his perspiring brow. 
He had not found it easy to lift the dead weight 
of a man of Follingsbee’s size and build. Yet he 
had carried him unassisted from the cart into the 
house. He had sent his driver post haste after the 
English doctor, and he had been unwilling to 
summon the house-boys. Follingsbee’s Chinese 
garb and strange appearance would set them talk- 
ing and the Yamen had a long ear. 

He bent over the silent figure on the bed anx- 
iously, but could see no signs of returning con- 
sciousness. 

He was at a loss what to do while waiting for the 
doctor. A vague recollection came to him of 
having once seen water dashed over the face of a 
fainting woman; he determined to try the efficacy 
of this remedy on Follingsbee. He seized a large 
pitcher of water, and carefully emptied the entire 
contents over the face of his friend. The result 
surpassed his best expectations, for the sudden cold 
shock restored Follingsbee to consciousness. He 
3*3 


324 The Breath of the Dragon 


opened his eyes and fixed them on the red, per- 
spiring face of Billy Lade. 

4 ‘All right again, old fellow, eh?” cried Billy 
Lade delightedly. ‘ ‘ W ant a towel ? Dry yourself ; 
some wet now, but water best thing imaginable 
when you ain’t feeling fit, — taken on the outside, 
of course — no good whatsomever swallowed.” 

He seized a large bath towel and began vigor- 
ously rubbing the face of his patient. 

“Look here — stop that!” gasped Follingsbee 
feebly and asked, “Where did you come from?” 
He tried to sit up in bed, but sank back on to the 
pillows unequal to the exertion. 

“Where did I come from? Well, I like that! 
Where the deuce did you come from? What mis- 
chief have you been up to now ? that’s the point. 
Come now, ’fess up — what have you been a-doin * 
that you must fall like a log in a dirty alley in the 
native city in company with a pigtailed chap 
every foggy old mandarin in the Empire itches to 
get hold of?” 

“Tell me all about it, Lade,” said Follingsbee, 
and Billy Lade related in his own lucid fashion 
what had occurred from the moment his cart 
driver was hailed by a panting Chinese in the 
native city, to the present hour. 

Follingsbee listened silently, till Billy Lade 
came to that portion of his story where he asked 
the young Chinese if he had a name and what in 
hell it was. 

“ Did he tell you?” asked Follingsbee eagerly. 


Back to Peking 


325 


“ Rather! D’yer think I’d let a blanky-blank 
Chinaman refuse to answer a civil question I put 
to him?” 

“Well, the name! What was the name?” In 
his eagerness Follingsbee again tried to sit up and 
again fell back on to his pillows. Billy eyed him 
uneasily. 

“Come now, you mustn’t do that, you know, 
you’ll be off again and frankly I don’t like your 
looks when you’re off. Kinder makes me think of 
funerals and corpses. Beastly unpleasant things, 
funerals and corpses — never could abide ’em.” 

“ His name? ” whispered Follingsbee weakly, but 
with insistence in his voice. 

“Fen-Sha, the reformer chap, ” said Billy Lade. 

Follingsbee sighed contentedly, closed his eyes, 
and went healthfully to sleep. 

“Well,” ruminated Billy Lade, gazing at him, 
“that’s the best thing he can do, also the most 
aggravatin’. I’d give twenty good silver Mexicans 
to know what he’s mixing himself up for with 
native reformers. ” 

Then he tiptoed from the room. In the hall the 
driver awaited him with the information that the 
doctor was not at home, he had been called on a 
serious case; the hour of his return was uncertain. 
Billy Lade did not care; his patient was doing 
famously owing to his own clever ministrations. 
In the morning, if necessary, he would send again 
for the doctor. He threw himself on a bamboo 
lounge in an adjoining room, and leaving the door 


326 The Breath of the Dragon 


wide open, in case Follingsbee called, went to 
sleep. 

Follingsbee was still soundly sleeping when the 
next morning Billy Lade roused himself to look 
in upon him, and he was sleeping when, at high 
noon, his host came with a boy, bearing a tray 
laden with tiffin sufficient for three hungry men. 
The tray was deposited on a table and master and 
servant softly left the room. 

At five o’clock Billy Lade returned from a short 
canter in the Tientsin Park to find his guest still 
sleeping, and he was sleeping when he rose from an 
eight o’clock dinner that night. 

“Getting to be sorter stale thing — this sleeping 
— wish he’d wake up — a fellow naturally wants 
to talk a bit when he’s got a friend staying with 
him. ” 

At twelve when he tumbled into bed, he said, 
“If he don’t wake himself by ten tomorrow morn- 
ing, why, by Jove, I’ll fetch the doctor to do it 
for him. ” 

But someone, who was not Billy Lade, or the 
English doctor, awakened Follingsbee long before 
ten the next morning. 

The night was well advanced when Follingsbee, 
still soundly sleeping, seemed to hear, as if in a 
dream, his name repeated over and over again. 
Notwithstanding every effort he could neither 
open his eyes nor speak. He experienced that op- 
pressive feeling which comes with a nightmare. 
Suddenly he felt a violent shock. He knew strong, 


Back to Peking 


327 


implacable hands were laid upon him and that he 
was being lifted up and cast into a deep dark abyss. 
He wakened to find himself on the floor by his bed. 
Someone had lighted a candle. He saw a hideous 
face peering down upon him. Was he awake or 
was the nightmare still gripping him? He sprang 
to his feet to find out and seized the intruder by the 
shoulders. “You scoundrel ” 

“Softly, softly, Follingsbee, you’ll rouse the 
house,” said a familiar voice in his ear. “You are 
a wonderful sleeper; I’ve been trying to wake you 
for the last half hour, then was forced to extreme 
measures. You’re none the worse for your fall, 
I hope?” 

Follingsbee drew back and stared at the speaker 
in amazement. The voice was the voice of Fen- 
Sha, but the face was that of a wrinkled, yellow- 
toothed old man. 

“Are you ” he began. 

The old man nodded laughing. “Yes,” he said. 
“My makeup is good, isn’t it? I wouldn’t leave 
Tientsin till I had assured myself that you were all 
right again and expressed my gratitude; also 
heard from your own lips how you obtained my 
release. ” 

Whereupon Follingsbee told him of A-lu-te’s 
wonderful courage and noble self-sacrifice, dwelling 
as little as possible upon his own share in the 
dangerous enterprise. His fearful ride on Lla, 
the Bactrian camel, he passed over entirely. 

When he concluded, the young Chinese said 


328 The Breath of the Dragon 


quietly, “It is useless to try and thank you; what 
you have done for me cannot be repaid by life- 
long loyalty to our friendship; but from my heart 
I am grateful to you. Now I must leave. ” 

He rose and going to the window prepared to 
depart in the same manner by which he had 
entered. 

“Wait a moment, ” said Follingsbee, “I return 
to Peking tomorrow. Have you no message to 
send A-lu-te? It is to her and not to me you owe 
your freedom.” He spoke the last words some- 
what sharply, for the young reformer had ex- 
pressed neither surprise, sorrow, nor gratitude for 
the girl who had risked, if she had not already lost, 
her own life to give him his. 

“No; why should I send a message?” he asked 
quietly. 

“Look here, Fen-Sha, I don’t like to say it, but 
you’re a contemptible brute.” 

Fen-Sha looked at him in surprise. 4 ‘ Why should 
I send a message?” he repeated. 

4 ‘Why? Why, confound you — because — be- 
cause — ” Follingsbee choked with anger, he 
could not find words in which to express himself. 
Was it for the sake of this cold callous man that 
the brave and beautiful Manchu girl had perhaps 
already given up her life? 

Fen-Sha stood with one leg raised on the win- 
dow-sill, when a thought seemed to strike him. 
He stepped back into the room. ‘ ‘ Did you believe 
I was not going myself to Peking?” he asked. “I 


Back to Peking 329 

do not send a message because I shall be the one to 
take it — and her,” he added softly. 

F ollingsbee stretched out his hand. 4 4 Forgive me 
for a fool,” he said. 

Fen-Sha smiled as he took the hand. 4 ‘We 
Chinese do not like to talk to others about our 
wives and — as you call them over in your country — 
our sweethearts. ” 

Then he again started for the window, and again 
Follingsbee stopped him. “Wait, I am going with 
you. ” 

“To Peking?” 

“Yes.” 

“Travelling with me means risking your life 
again, ” Fen-Sha warned him. 

“That’s my affair,” returned Follingsbee and 
proceeded to dress himself. 

“Eat,” said Fen-Sha, pointing to the tray and 
rightly divining that Follingsbee had taken no 
food since he was brought into the bungalow. 

Follingsbee demolished the food without a 
second bidding. Then they left the house together. 

“Wait for me at the river-bank just outside the 
North City Gate,” said Follingsbee. “I have some 
business to attend to before I leave Tientsin.” 

“I will wait an hour for you — not longer,” 
replied Fen-Sha. 

No one was abroad at this early hour. They 
soon left the foreign concession and followed for 
awhile together the tortuosities of the alleys, 
misnamed streets, in the native city. Then they 


330 


The Breath of the Dragon 


separated, Fen-Sha going on to the river-bank, 
while Follingsbee sought the Inn of the Blue Sea. 
He pounded long and lustily on the door. It was 
opened by a sleepy servant, who asked crossly 
what he meant by disturbing honest folks at such 
an early hour. Without replying Follingsbee 
pushed him unceremoniously aside and hurried 
into the court looking to the right and left for Lla, 
the Bactrian camel. The camel was not there. 
Seizing the astonished servant by the collar, 
Follingsbee shook him vigorously to rouse in him 
an appreciation of the importance of the question 
he was about to ask him. Having, he thought, 
accomplished the purpose, he demanded to be told 
what had become of the camel he had left in care 
of the innkeeper two nights ago. The servant 
looked at him with a disagreeable smile on his thin 
pinched lips. * ‘ Ah ! well ! you have arrived. Wait, 
I will summon the master. ” With that he made 
off, while Follingsbee strode up and down the 
court impatiently. He was about to go after the 
innkeeper himself, when that worthy appeared. 

“Where is my camel?” demanded Follingsbee. 

The innkeeper gazed at him with a benevolent 
expression. 

“It is a great happiness to see your Excellency 
again. Will you step in, noble sir, and repose 
yourself while my servant goes forth to fetch the 
camel?” 

“Where is she?” asked Follingsbee. 

“A most magnificent beast. Ah! I know a fine 


Back to Peking 


331 


camel when I see one, and I took my precautions, 
for, though my guests are all excellent gentlemen, 
still an innkeeper must not repose too great 
confidence in every stranger who comes within 
his gates. Step inside, step inside, in a little time 
my servant will bring the camel here.” 

Something about the man’s oily tones aroused 
Follingsbee’s suspicions. Where was the servant 
going? Not for the camel, he felt convinced of 
that. Moreover the innkeeper’s efforts to induce 
him to enter the house struck him as unpleasantly 
insistent. The servant had unbarred the door 
and was slipping out, when Follingsbee, moved by 
a sudden impulse, quickly strode up to him and 
thrust him back into the court. Then he shut the 
door. “Now,” he said, “the truth, or I’ll force it 
out of both of you with this.” He drew, from 
under his long Chinese coat, a revolver. At the 
first sight of the weapon, the servant uttered a howl 
and took refuge in the house. The innkeeper was 
about to follow his excellent example, when he was 
prevented by Follingsbee’s curt order to “stand.” 
The command being accompanied by an ominous 
click of the revolver, the innkeeper experienced no 
difficulty in obeying. 

“One never needs one’s wits so much as when 
one has to do with a fool, ” he muttered. 

“Where were you sending your servant? The 
truth — speak,” said Follingsbee. 

* 1 And why not ? What ! are we not all brothers ? 
Away with subterfuge. He was going to the 


332 The Breath of the Dragon 


Yamen where I sent the camel after you on the 
night of your honourable arrival. ” 

“To the Y amen ! ’ ’ exclaimed Follingsbee aghast. 
Then, seeing the innkeeper grin maliciously, 
he deliberately placed the mouth of the revolver 
against the fellow’s yellow temple. “You spoke 
part truth. The servant was indeed going to the 
Yamen and to announce my return here. But the 
camel you stole. Produce her without delay or 
I’ll send you to join your ancestors — if indeed such 
a scurvy thief as you has ancestors. ” 

If he had ancestors! The insult was difficult 
to swallow, but the innkeeper gulped hard and 
succeeded. “Excellent gentleman,” he whined, 
“curb your anger, remove your fire- weapon, and 
I will speak. The same evening upon which you 
left my humble inn, to repair to the Yamen, the 
lictors ran through the streets shouting that a false 
cornier from Peking had arrived and tha£ the death 
penalty awaited the person who dare harbour him. 
I feared for myself, for I became convinced your 
honourable self was the same courier, and if the 
magistrate found out you had put up in my house 
and I had let you escape, even through ignorance, 
he would not spare me. So I took the camel late 
that night outside the wall and left it. You will 
find it there without doubt, for no one would be so 
dishonest as to steal the beast. ” 

That this explanation was again only half truth, 
Follingsbee knew. By further threats, he finally 
extracted from the innkeeper an admission that he 


Back to Peking 


333 


had sold the camel to a guest going south. After 
obtaining a description of the purchaser, who the 
innkeeper swore was a one-legged man, Follingsbee 
soundly trounced him for his dishonesty and 
hastened off. He felt that it would be impossible 
to return to Peking without Lla, that he was in 
honour bound to make every effort to recover the 
Mongol’s valuable Bactrian. He directed his 
steps to the river-bank. He intended to tell Fen- 
Sha he would not accompany him to the capital. 
Fie found him squatting on the ground peeling 
watermelon seeds with his long nails, and eating 
them with apparent relish. Beside him stood 
Lla, the racing camel! 

“Where did you find her? How did you get 
her?” shouted Follingsbee in delighted surprise. 

Fen-Sha carefully gathered up a few seeds he 
had dropped and put them in his pocket. 

“Who?” he asked laconically. 

‘ ‘ My camel, standing beside you. I went to the 
inn where I had left her and the rascally innkeeper 
told me — under compulsion, I confess — that he 
had sold her to a one-legged man last night. ” 

“And so he did — for once in his life he spoke the 
truth ; I was the one-legged man. Why didn’t you 
tell me it was the camel you were after? I could 
have spared you time and trouble. Come, the 
hour is up — we must start.” They mounted the 
camel and rode off. 

Their ride lacked the element of excitement 
which had characterized Follingsbee’s wild run to 


334 The Breath of the Dragon 


Tientsin. Fen-Sha deemed it not only wiser to 
avoid racing over the country and again exciting 
the curiosity of the people they encountered, but 
he even changed the direct route for one longer and 
less travelled. The next day at noon they stopped 
to rest in the shade of trees guarding the tomb of 
a wealthy mandarin. Fen-Sha prepared the 
refreshments, which consisted of tea, yam-cakes, 
and pickled chives. Follingsbee watched him in 
luxurious idleness, stretched full length on the 
ground. He had not yet regained his customary 
vigour. The tea being made, they were about to 
drink, when a filthy, half-clad figure appeared 
before them, holding in his hands the insignia of 
the beggar — a wooden clap-bowl. 

‘ ‘ Excellencies, a little tea to moisten my parched 
mouth,” he whined. The Chinese beggar is a 
peculiarly repugnant spectacle. Follingsbee put 
his cup down in disgust, and seizing the teapot, 
poured part of its contents into the clap-bowl 
stretched out to him. 

“Begone now, don’t linger to windward of us,” 
he ordered as the beggar prepared to squat near 
them. “You are an affront to the nose.” 

“Your Excellencies are travelling to Peking?” 
asked the beggar without moving, and without 
waiting for an answer — indeed Follingsbee was too 
astounded at the fellow’s insolent assurance to 
speak for a moment — he added: “It is foolishness 
to enter Peking in company with a Bactrian 
camel. ” 


Back to Peking 


335 


Follingsbee’s choler cooled as suddenly as it had 
risen. “Speak plainly what you mean,” he said, 
attempting to disguise the uneasiness the beggar’s 
words caused him. Fen-Sha appeared to take no 
interest in the scene; he continued to sip his tea, 
making the gurgling sound of the very old when 
drinking. 

“I mean,” replied the beggar coolly, “that, if 
you and his Excellency there — who it seems has 
grown amazingly old since the night you broke that 
cursed collar from my neck — desire to live a few 
years longer, it were best to leave that beast there 
behind you, before you come in sight of Peking.” 
Long before the beggar had finished speaking 
both Fen-Sha and Follingsbee had jumped swiftly 
to their feet, moved by the same impulse to secure 
this dangerous fellow who had seen through Fen- 
Sha’s disguise. It was only when he mentioned 
the cangue that they dropped their arms and stood 
staring stupidly down upon him. He, in the 
meanwhile, had not troubled to shift his position 
by so much as an inch. Fen-Sha was the first to 
recover himself. He burst out laughing. “So!” 
he cried, “you’re the gentleman of the wooden 
necklace! You have followed us here. Why?” 

“I didn’t follow you. How would that be 
possible? You have a swift camel, and I only a 
pair of miserable legs. But, as I was resting in the 
shade of yonder stone tortoise, I saw you dismount 
and make ready to refresh yourselves, and, as you 
approached, I recognized his Lordship here. After 


336 The Breath of the Dragon 


that it w§ts easy to arrive at conclusions; the brains 
of a yearling camel could do as much. As you did 
me a great service in freeing me from that devil’s 
collar, I was willing to serve you also. That is all.” 

“No, that is not all. Why did you tell us not 
to enter Peking with our camel?” asked Fen-Sha. 

“Why? Because every Bannerman in the city 
has orders to keep watch for a grey Bactrian racing 
camel and to arrest the rider. ” 

“How did you obtain this information?” 

“Two hours since I met one of our band just 
from Peking — he told me. ” 

“What band?” asked Follingsbee, curious to 
know what organization would admit among its 
members a vile beggar. 

“Have you heard of the Ki-mao-fan?” inquired 
the beggar. 

Follingsbee shook his head, but Fen-Sha ex- 
claimed, “House of the Hens’ Feathers! Then 
you are of the company of organized beggars?” 

The man nodded. “Yes,” he said, a certain im- 
pudent pride in his voice and manner. 

To Follingsbee’s amazement, Fen-Sha squatted 
down beside the fellow with every appearance of 
being delighted with his company. “Are you on 
your way to Peking?” he asked. 

“Yes,” replied the beggar. 

“We will help you to arrive without undue fa- 
tigue. You shall share our camel; she is quite 
capable of carrying the three of us without inter- 
fering with the swiftness of her gait. ” 


Back to Peking 337 

“Look here — I object, ” said Follingsbee angrily. 
He spoke in English. 

“It is necessary, ” replied Fen-Sha in the same 
language and in a low voice. “You will come 
with us?” he asked, turning to the beggar. He 
waited anxiously for his answer. “I will come,” 
he said. 

Fen-Sha gave a sigh of relief and jumped up. 
“Then, let’s be off.” 

But Follingsbee was not disposed to accept this 
arrangement quietly. To travel an entire day or 
longer in close proximity with a rank smelling, 
filthy beggar (and no one who has not been close to 
a Chinese beggar can realize just how rank smelling 
he can be) was not to be tolerated for a minute. 
His angry protest was checked almost before it 
was uttered by the surprise which Fen-Sha’s 
next words inspired. 

“We have done you a good turn and you have 
not failed to requite us, but I am going to ask you 
to do more and bespeak us a word to your King 
and then lead us to him. ” 

“Is it because you want the services of the Or- 
ganization?” he asked. 

“Yes,” said Fen-Sha. 

“For what purpose?” 

“To find out if a young Manchu lady recently 
admitted to the Summer Palace is still there and 
if not where she is?” 

The beggar nodded again. “Tonight you will 
be in Peking with me, then you shall know. We 


338 The Breath of the Dragon 


will ride the camel as far as Lao-to and leave her 
there in charge of the Tao-tai of the place. From 
there we will take a cart to Peking. ” 

Follingsbee felt the situation had grown both 
beyond his control and comprehension; he opened 
his mouth now only to gape in silent wonder. 

All three men mounted the camel. Lla appeared 
not to feel the additional weight, but with long 
swinging strides set off over the country. 

In the course of four hours they reached Lao-to, 
a large, straggling village. The beggar slipped 
from the camel on the outskirts. of this village and 
told Fen-Sha to follow him. Follingsbee was to 
await their return. They were not long absent. 
A well-dressed, middle-aged man, and his servant, 
appeared with them. “Is this the camel your 
Excellency desires to leave in my charge until you 
send for her? Very good — that is easy to arrange. 
Here is my card, whoever presents it will be given 
the animal. The cart is being made ready. ” 
With that he raised his hands in salutation and, 
followed by the mafoo leading the camel, walked 
off. Follingsbee had taken possession of the large 
red visiting card. He now watched the camel dis- 
appear with a distinct feeling of uneasiness. How 
could they be sure that the Tao-tai was honest and 
would deliver up Lla on the presentation of the 
card? Fen-Sha divined his thoughts. “It’s all 
right,” he assured him, “the animal is under the 
protection of the Organization — no one would 
dare take it now. The Tao-tai will keep his word 


Back to Peking 


339 


— he knows the Organization and has no wish to 
rouse its anger. ” 

The beggar, sitting on the roadside, his clap- 
bowl tucked under the rags which only partially 
covered his filthy person, nodded a calm assent. 

Follingsbee felt his head whirling as he looked 
at this horrible specimen of humanity and tried 
to realize that it was he under whose guidance and 
protection they had voluntarily placed themselves 
and that it was he who gave commands to village 
headmen. 

By and by the cart appeared. Follingsbee seated 
himself on the shafts opposite the driver, Fen-Sha 
and the beggar crawled inside. They had cal- 
culated their arrival in Peking to a nicety, for, 
scarcely had the cart passed through the great 
gates, than they closed behind them, and the 
capital of the Flowery Kingdom was again isolated 
from the outside world. 

The driver asked no questions; he directed his 
mule along the inside wall for a certain distance, 
then turned and entered one of the densely crowded 
thoroughfares of the Chinese city and drew up 
before a tea-house. Follingsbee jumped from the 
shafts. It was then that he discovered that Fen- 
Sha and the beggar were no longer in the cart. 

“What the devil does it all mean? ” he muttered. 

The driver did not stop to be paid; he whipped 
up his mule and disappeared among a hundred 
other blue-topped carts. 


CHAPTER XXII 


HOUSE OF THE HENS* FEATHERS 

Follingsbee yelled after the driver, then 
shrugged his shoulders, recognizing the futility of 
such a procedure. He looked up and down the 
street, where the populace was still occupied with 
the great business of buying, bargaining, and 
selling. 

A man brushed up against him ; he felt something 
thrust into his hands; it was a crumpled piece of 
paper; he smoothed it out and read in English, 
“Follow the lame beggar and wait outside the 
door.” The note was signed with the initial 
“F.” 

1 j He seated himself by one of the small tea-tables 
of an outdoor restaurant. Near him a young 
dandy was sipping hot saki. Follingsbee ordered 
a dish of poached eggs in chicken gravy and waited 
for the lame beggar. Acrobats and conjurors 
were plying their trade for the amusement of the 
rich patrons of the restaurant; pedlars were 
bawling their wares. The crowds in the street 
increased, till it seemed impossible for carts, 
chairs, palanquins, or pedestrians to move, nor 
340 


House of the Hens’ Feathers 341 


did they move beyond a snail’s pace. The young 
dandy near Follingsbee’s table grew boisterous 
over his cup of hot saki — it was not the first he 
had enjoyed that evening — and he added his 
coarse jokes and oaths to the general uproar of 
the street. 

Follingsbee had been sitting an hour watching 
the scene around him, almost forgetting why he 
was there, when the loud laughter of the tipsy 
dandy and obsequious waiters, mingling with the 
groans of someone who had stumbled or been 
knocked down in the crowd close to them, at- 
tracted his attention. He saw a beggar sprawling 
on the ground and in imminent peril of being 
trampled to death. With a supreme effort the 
beggar managed to squirm along till he clutched 
hold of the leg of Follingsbee’s chair and pulled 
himself up to safety. Then, with a curse thrown 
at his laughing tormentors, he picked up his stick 
and hobbled off. Follingsbee rose precipitately 
and followed him. He had no difficulty in keeping 
track of the fellow, for, though he threaded his 
way with astonishing agility through the crowd, 
he stopped every now and again and raised his 
raucous voice to beseech alms of the charitably 
inclined. From one crowded street they passed 
to another and another, the beggar always leading, 
Follingsbee always following, though neither ex- 
changed a word or appeared to notice the presence 
of the other. Follingsbee found himself winding 
through a labyrinth of unfamiliar alleys, traversing 


342 The Breath of the Dragon 


streets the existence of which he had never divined. 
Finally, the beggar stopped before a long, low, 
one-storied house and knocked loudly on his clap- 
bowl, then upon the door. A brutal-visaged man 
opened the door; the beggar handed him a small 
cash and entered. The door was instantly closed 
behind him and Follingsbee was left standing alone 
outside and in front of it. He waited, expecting 
someone to appear and direct his next steps. 
But no one came. Apparently he was left to shift 
for himself ; he grew impatient, then angry. What 
did Fen-Sha mean by leaving him without warning 
and sending a lame beggar to lead him a wild goose 
chase through the city? 

A beggar in tattered trousers and nude to the 
waist, showing every rib in his shrunken body, 
came stealthily around the corner. He eyed 
Follingsbee with something of malignant surprise, 
then knocking on his clap bowl passed through the 
door, which was opened to admit him. A few 
minutes later another beggar came swinging 
himself along on his stump of a body with the aid 
of his flat monstrous hands. He moved with 
incredible swiftness and quite noiselessly. He, 
too, disappeared behind the door of the house. 
And now Follingsbee perceived grotesque shapes 
crawling out from every alley, every blind passage- 
way leading into the street. 

He waited, bewildered, motionless, expectant 
of something he knew not what, but surely not this 
that he was seeing ! He flattened himself against 


House of the Hens’ Feathers 343 

the embrasure of a closed shop and watched, 
hidden in the protecting shadow. 

The shapes resolved themselves into what must- 
be called human beings, for lack of any other word 
by which to designate them, but human beings so 
mutilated, so evil looking, the gargoyles on med- 
ieval churches of Western Europe were less hideous 
to the eye. Cripples, hopping like gaunt birds of 
prey on one leg, were leading blind creatures with 
bits of rags attached to their unclean bodies like 
dead flies to fly-paper ; shrivelled women, with faces 
which long since had lost all trace of the feminine, 
dragged naked, pot-bellied children after them ; old 
men, middle-aged men ; young men and boys, with 
every conceivable deformity and disease, swarmed 
silently past him into the house. By and by the 
steady stream of horrid mendicants ceased. 

Follingsbee was about to emerge from his hid- 
ing-place, when the sound of quick running caught 
his ear. He looked out in time to see two men 
enter the house. One of the men was the beggar 
who had been their travelling companion that 
day. The other was Fen-Sha. For a brief space, 
sheer surprise kept him rooted to the spot. Then 
he dashed after them and knocked loudly on the 
closed door. It was opened on a crack, an evil- 
looking man peered out at him. Follingsbee 
thrust a copper cash in his hand and pushing past 
him entered the house. For a moment he felt the 
impossibility of breathing in the foul atmosphere 
which struck him like a blow in the face. 


344 The Breath of. the Dragon 


The spectacle which confronted him made him 
ask himself whether he was awake or sleeping 
through a dreadful nightmare. He was in an im- 
mense hall. A gigantic canopy of felt cloth, dotted 
at intervals with round holes, large enough to 
admit a man’s head, stretched over the entire hall 
suspended from the ceiling by a system of pulleys. 

On the floor of the hall was a thick carpet of 
feathers, filthy beyond conception. Over this 
strange carpet, swarming like pestiferous insects, 
were all the beggars he had seen entering the house 
and more that he had not seen. It was an orgie of 
ugliness. Every deformity was represented, every 
kind of hideous face and evil expression, every stage 
of starvation and disease, except the final stage, 
the one solitary blessing that with certainty 
awaited them all. The air was as the exhalation 
of a furnace fed with impurities. A horrible din 
prevailed; from every mouth issued a groan or 
curse, a coarse jest, a vicious laugh. 

In this gathering, Follingsbee stood appalled, 
horror-stricken. The ribald voice of a woman 
near him drew the attention of the curious as- 
sembly to his presence. The woman spoke again ; 
her words were greeted with an uproarious burst 
of laughter by the beggars near her. Those farther 
off raised themselves from their nests to determine 
the cause of the merriment and saw Follingsbee. 
Then, through the foul sea of feathers, the beggars 
waded towards him; they surrounded him on all 
sides, yelling, howling, jeering. They pushed him 


House of the Hens’ Feathers 345 

with their stumps of bodies, their leprous arms, 
their skeleton legs. They tore his clothes and 
searched madly for his money, for anything of 
value he might have secreted about his person. 
A diabolical gaiety reigned. Follingsbee knew 
that his life was not worth one of the filthy rags on 
his tormentors. He fought desperately at first, 
then was seized with such horror at the feel of those 
fleshless bodies, those armless, legless stumps of 
men, those shrivelled women, he became paralyzed, 
incapable of voluntary motion. Suddenly, above 
the uproar around him, sounded a trumpet-voice, 
commanding, menacing. The beggars dropped 
like leeches one by one from him and crawled back 
into their nests, stepping over each other in their 
haste to be gone. 

Follingsbee staggered against the wall, gasping. 
A hand supported him and Fen-Sha spoke in his 
ear. “Why did you not wait outside, as I told 
you? A minute more and they would have done 
for you?” 

“I thought they had already done for me,” 
returned Follingsbee, trying to control the quiver 
in his voice and failing. “What is this damned 
place anyway, ” he asked. 

“The House of the Hens* Feathers; the hotel of 
the Peking beggars; the unemployed thief; the 
idle ragamuffin; the meeting place of the Or- 
ganization; the Throne Room of the King of the 
Beggars, who, by the way, saved your life just 
now.” 


346 The Breath of the Dragon 


“ Wish he had saved it a little earlier in the game. 
Let’s get out of here. A sewer smells sweeter. ” 

“You have seen tonight a sight not to be met 
with anywhere else in the world,” continued Fen- 
Sha. 

“Thank God for that!” said Follingsbee fer- 
vently. And he meant it. It seemed to him this 
was hell worse than any pictured by Dante or 
drawn by Dore. 

“Let’s get out of here, ” he repeated. 

“I must stay,” replied Fen-Sha, “but there is 
no reason why you should remain.” 

Follingsbee pulled himself together. “If you 
stay, so will I,” he declared. In vain Fen-Sha 
urged him not to linger in the place; he was as 
eager now to remain as he had been to leave. 

“As you will,” said Fen-Sha. “The King of 
the Beggars will harangue his people as soon as the 
hall is filled.” 

4 1 Filled ! ’ ’ exclaimed Follingsbee. 1 1 Good Lord ! 
what do you call it now?” And for the moment he 
was again overpowered by the horror of the scene. 

* ‘ What made you come here ? ” he asked ; ‘ * surely 
you could have found a hiding-place as safe in 
Peking and more decent — less rank than this”; 
he waved his hand disgustedly. 

“It was not for myself I came,” answered Fen- 
Sha quietly. 

“For whom, then?” 

“For A-lu-te. ” 

“A-lu-te!” cried Follingsbee; “is she here?” 


House of the Hens’ Feathers 347 

“I wish with all my heart she were,” said Fen- 
Sha. “Under the protection of the King of the 
Beggars, she would be safer here by far, than where 
she now is.” 

“Where is she?” asked Follingsbee. He could 
not conceive of a place more horrible for the gentle 
nurtured, delicate young Manchu girl to be in 
than the House of the Hens’ Feathers. 

“She escaped from the Summer Palace and, 
dressed as a peasant boy, reached in safety the 
village of Yang-lin, six lis from Peking. She took 
refuge for the night in an inn there, where Li Lien 
Ying, the Chief Eunuch, — curse his snake’s hide, — 
or one of his henchmen found her and carried her 
off to a house he owns in the village. She is there, 
held a prisoner by him ; whether she is now alive or 
dead is not known. ” 

“How did you learn all this?” 

“Through the King of the Beggars. He ques- 
tioned his ragged subjects. Few things occur in 
Peking, or in the environments, which are not 
known to the members of the Organization. They 
hear the gossip of the street, they listen around tea- 
houses, in opium dens, in gambling houses, around 
shops and private dwellings and outside of Yamens 
and on the highroads beyond the city walls, and 
in the outlying villages. Amongst them, they 
gather all the news and all the secrets that are 
whispered about. He, whose authority they re- 
cognize, can obtain from them all the information 
they possess and much of it is valuable, not only 


348 The Breath of the Dragon 


to private individuals, but even to the State. It 
was through them the King obtained the informa- 
tion of A-lu-te’s whereabouts.” 

“Then why are we staying here? There is no 
time to lose — we should be even now on our way 
to Yang-lin to rescue A-lu-te.” 

“You and I can do nothing, ” returned Fen-Sha. 

Follingsbee looked at him indignantly. “Do 
you intend to leave her in the hands of that brute 
without making an attempt to save her?” he 
asked. 

“I have done all in my power, for the present,” 
he answered quietly. 

Follingsbee was frankly contemptuous as well as 
bitterly disappointed in his friend. He had not 
supposed him capable of such cowardly inaction 
and told him so. 

“Inaction ! ” said Fen-Sha. “I don’t know about 
that. It remains first to be seen what these people 
can do for her. ” 

“These beggars! Have you then lost your wits 
entirely?” he asked, and regretted the words as 
soon as they were spoken. He believed the young 
reformer’s suffering and long-endured suspense 
had in truth affected his mind. Perhaps Fen-Sha 
divined his thoughts, for he said with a curious 
little smile, “Wait — in a few minutes you will 
understand. The King is ordering the doors 
locked — he is going to address his people.” 

Follingsbee was not without keen curiosity to 
see this man who called himself King of the Beggars 


House of the Hens’ Feathers 349 

and was acknowledged as such, not only by the 
horde of mendicants, but, as he afterwards learnt, 
by the State itself. 

He saw, at the farther end of the great hall, a 
man swing himself to a seat made of a small plank 
fastened to the wall some four feet above the floor. 

A clap-bowl was on his head by way of a crown ; 
his rags were no worse and no less than those of his 
subjects; but his face showed a mixture of crafty 
intelligence and insolent pride not seen in theirs. 
On closer inspection Follingsbee saw that he was 
eyeless; the sockets where his eyes should have 
been were two empty black holes; he was terrible 
to look upon and more horrible than the wretches 
who acknowledged his sway. Near him stood the 
beggar who had accompanied Fen-Sha and Fol- 
lingsbee to Peking. 

“That’s his son,” whispered Fen-Sha. “When 
you rescued him from the cangue that night, you 
gained for us the friendship of the King — it is 
to that fact you owe your life tonight, and I the 
information about A-lu-te and it may be something 
more.” 

“What?” asked Follingsbee, curiously. 

* 1 Hush ! He is speaking. ’ ’ 

The loud gabble of voices around them ceased 
suddenly. The beggars sat up in their various 
nests and listened to their King. He addressed 
them in a language even Fen-Sha, who could 
speak most of the dialects of the North and South, 
could not understand. His speech was long and 


350 The Breath of the Dragon 


seemed to create the utmost excitement in his 
audience. He was interrupted every now and 
again with fierce shouts and loud applause; the 
beggars shook their fists, or mutilated stumps 
where their fists should have been; crutches were 
waved and sticks; bandaged heads were wagged 
and bandaged legs stamped through the feathers 
on the floor, making the foul air fouler from the 
cloud of dust and dirt that rose. 

The King appeared satisfied with the effect of his 
harangue. He let himself down from his perch 
and a few minutes later was wading through the 
feathers, stepping over and frequently on the forms 
of his subjects squirming like caterpillars on the 
floor, till he reached Fen-Sha and Follingsbee. 1 ‘ Is 
it well?” asked Fen-Sha eagerly as he stopped 
before them. 

“ It is well,” replied the King. “At the hour of 
the ox when the city gates are opened, all my 
people, men and women, the old, the young, the 
lame, the blind, the deaf, the dumb, the sick, the 
well — for of these last there are a few,” he added 
cynically — “will sally forth to invade Yang-lin. 
Now answer me, you who saved my son — are you 
content with the keeping of my promise?” 

“Can I tell yet? I will wait and see, for I go 
with you when you set out for Yang-lin,” replied 
Fen-Sha. 

“Then, have a care that you do not interfere in 
what does not concern you — my protection would 
avail you nothing in that case, even if I chose to 


House of the Hens’ Feathers ’351 


extend it, which is doubtful. The hour is theirs — 
I have given it to them — if the people of Yang-lin 
come not to terms. ” 

With that he turned and left them. 

F en-Sha seized Follingsbee by the hand. * ‘ Come, 
we will leave the House of the Hens’ Feathers now; 
my mission here is over. ” 

It was with a deep sigh of relief that Follingsbee 
turned his back on the mass of degraded creatures, 
settling themselves down into their nests of feath- 
ers. The huge felt canopy, their bed covering, 
was being slowly lowered. The two young men 
hurried out to avoid contact with it. On the 
street they drew deep breaths of the fresh night 
air — Follingsbee had a conviction that nothing 
short of an internal scrubbing with disinfectants 
would cleanse his lungs again. 

Fen-Sha told him of the beggars’ plan. They 
intended going on one of their periodical raids in 
the country — a privilege accorded them for cen- 
turies past — and, by their locustlike depredations, 
so pester and frighten the inhabitants of Yang- 
lin that the headman of the place would appear 
before their King and arrange terms by which the 
village would be freed from their devastating 
presence. 

In this case they would demand neither money, 
food, or clothing, but the delivery of A-lu-te into 
their hands. They would claim her, not as a 
hostage or victim, for such was not their custom, 
but as one entitled to the protection of the frater- 


35^ The Breath of the Dragon 


nity. They would promise that if, when the girl 
was brought before them, she chose not to ac- 
company them, preferring instead to remain in 
durance, they would retire without protest and 
quietly. This was their plan of campaign ; whether 
it would prove successful or not remained to be 
seen. 


CHAPTER XXIII 

THE BEGGARS’ RAID 

The two young men repaired to Follingsbee’s 
rooms to await the hour of the opening of the city 
gates. As the time drew near they slipped out 
and made their way to the Shih Che Men — the 
North-West Gate. The streets were deserted, 
or rather they appeared to be, for, when the huge 
gates were thrown wide to permit the outside 
world entrance to the capital, the streets suddenly 
became alive with a grotesque horde of creatures, 
rickety, decrepit, stunted, who ran, limped, crawled, 
and hopped, or glided like reptiles, toward the 
gates. They came from every direction. The 
guards slunk back and made no effort to interfere, 
— they knew better than that, possessing, as they 
did, a liking for a whole skin and a preference for a 
natural death. 

The Shih Che Men closed again. Along the 
outside walls on either side flowed two similar 
streams to join the one which had just issued from 
the North-West Gate. These three streams 
mingled in one great whole, forming a river which 
overflowed the highway and bore Follingsbee and 
353 


. 23 


354 The Breath of the Dragon 


Fen-Sha along in its current. Swiftly, silently, 
sullenfy, it moved, carrying with it everything 
encountered on its course. Fortunately for the 
public the hour was not one in which people went 
abroad; the few who were out, seeing the horrible 
river bearing down upon them, sought refuge in the 
fields or off the highroad anywhere to safety. 

The inhabitants of the village Yang-lin, like 
most country folk, were matutinal. They had 
eaten their early rice ; their shops were open and the 
workers were going about the business of the day. 
An itinerant mender of broken jars was the first 
to see the approaching danger. He had spent the 
night in a house at the end of the village, and was 
starting on his rounds for the day singing in high, 
falsetto voice to attract customers: “Bowls 
mended, jars and pots repaired, every hole drilled 
carefully; plates made new again.” 

The cry died on his lips as the sullen roar of the 
fast-flowing stream reached him. He cast one 
frightened glance behind him, then fled down the 
village street shouting with all the strength of his 
lungs, which were sound ones, “The beggars have 
come! The beggars have come! ” 

Fast as he ran, the stream flowed faster. 

The people who were abroad were caught in the 
horrible current which soon filled every nook and 
corner of the street. The truckling fear of those 
who were caught excited the malicious glee of the 
beggars. This was their day. They whined their 
mendicant cry of, “Alms, alms for the poor — alms 


The Beggars’ Raid 


355 


for the starving, ” with a note that threatened 
perceptible in the whine. No one thought of 
resistance. Strings of cash appeared from the 
pockets of the well-to-do and were transferred to 
the rags of the beggars, to be later handed over to 
their King for distribution, every subject receiving 
his share of the spoils. The villagers who had no 
cash about them were shorn of their hats, and their 
coats were made to adorn the shoulders of some 
skeleton scarecrow. A few men tried to slink off 
home, to wait behind closed windows and barred 
doors till the beggars had gone. They were 
quickly held in their places by naked skinny arms, 
or tripped up by bony legs, and sprawling on the 
ground made to stay where they had fallen. 

Women screamed, children whimpered, too 
frightened to cry aloud, and hid their little heads in 
the folds of their parents’ gowns. Indeed, the 
spectacle offered to their childish eyes was so 
terrible, even their elders had no words of comfort 
or assurance to give them. 

The beggars were armed with sticks, crutches, 
broken knives, stones, .with everything in fact 
wherewith a beggar could arm himself. A few 
had hatchets and pitchforks stolen that morning 
from workmen encountered on the road. 

In the midst of the uproar the trumpet voice of 
the King was heard, shouting for silence. The 
effect was instantaneous, complete quiet prevailed. 
Only one old woman shrieked again. A filthy 
hand was clapped upon her mouth. “You gap- 


356 The Breath of the Dragon 


toothed old beldame, didn’t you hear the order to 
be silent?” 

“ Perhaps she’s deaf and can only feel,” said 
another and beat her over the head with his crutch. 

The King was lifted on the shoulders of his sub- 
jects. He sat on his human throne with a savage, 
insolent mien, a monstrous spectacle, an evil thing 
perched in the air. His black empty sockets 
looked like burnt-out craters and gave to his face 
more than ever that day a demoniacal expression. 
“ People of Yang-lin,” he shouted, “we are the 
yeast that ferments hell in your village. If ye 
would escape my army which spares nothing, which 
takes everything, from the bead-string off the soft 
neck of your infants, to the clothes on the back of 
your women, and the last cash in the strong-box 
of your shops, then listen to my terms.” 

“The terms! the terms! Let us hear them. 
We promise to agree!” cried the villagers in the 
streets. 

“Fools!” returned the King scornfully. “Do 
you think I deal with such as you? What are your 
promises worth? Call a meeting of the headmen of 
the village instantly. ” Again they agreed. The 
King deputed a guard to accompany the villagers 
sent to summon the headmen. 

The Inn of Peace and Security was decided upon 
as the place where the conference should be held. 
We have already made acquaintance with this 
inn; it was here where the Tartar wife of the 
Chinese innkeeper had given shelter to A-lu-te 


The Beggars’ Raid 


357 


and where Ho-Shu found her hiding, flattened like 
a yam-cake under a piece of matting. 

The village headmen answered the King’s sum- 
mons reluctantly, but determined to make the best 
possible bargain with him. If the sum of money 
demanded of them proved too outrageously large, 
they would dispute the matter long and fiercely, 
though they well knew that in the end the beggars 
would not be denied. Their surprise was great 
when they learnt from the King the nature of his 
terms, which included neither money, food, nor 
clothing, but the giving into his hands of a young 
Manchu woman, who, as they all knew, was caught 
and imprisoned in their village by order of the 
powerful Chief Eunuch, Li Lien Ying. 

They were aghast and knew not what to do; 
they were between two fires. They feared to 
rouse against their village the terrible wrath of the 
great eunuch and they feared the vengeance of the 
beggars if their demands were refused. In this 
dilemma they made an offer to the King of a large 
sum of money, a sum they knew to be greater than 
any he had ever obtained from villages in that 
neighbourhood. 

It was a tempting bait, but failed of its purpose. 
The big, black sockets in the face of the King 
looked bigger and blacker than ever; one of the 
headmen declared later that he saw fire smoulder- 
ing in the gloomy depths of these ugly holes and 
expected every minute to see flames spring forth 
to burn up every man jack of them. 


358 The Breath of the Dragon 


The King smote the table with his homy hands 
and roared, “I have told you my terms — agree to 
them or not as you wish, but remember this, if 
you fail to deliver up the woman to me, my army 
will encamp here; I will make the village of 
Yang-lin my headquarters for three months to 
come. ” 

The headmen conferred together. A more 
dreadful threat they could not conceive of; it 
were almost better to leave their homes at once, 
leave them in the hands of the beggars, together 
with all their possessions, and begin life over 
again elsewhere. For what would their existence 
be worth with such an army encamped at their 
door? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! And, 
after all, what right had the palace eunuch to make 
use of their village as a prison for an escaped con- 
cubine? If the beggars wanted the woman, and 
if she were willing — incredible as it seemed — to go 
with them, why, then, in Buddha’s name, let 
them have her. 

This decision having been reached, the headmen 
conducted the King and his army to a house on the 
outskirts of the village facing the hills. This 
house was owned by the Chief Eunuch. No one 
in the village had ever crossed its threshold. 
Many stories were told in whispers — for the 
villagers’ fear of the eunuch was great — of the 
orgies which took place periodically behind those 
walls, and of dark deeds, tortures, and crimes un- 
speakable. The village maids and young women 


The Beggars’ Raid 


359 


had such fear of the house and its near neighbour- 
hood that they never passed it unless accompanied 
by brothers, fathers, or husbands and even then 
they trembled with apprehension of some dreadful 
danger which might befall them. 

Now, when it became known that the beggars’ 
demand was not money, but the deliverance of an 
imperial concubine held prisoner in the house of the 
Chief Eunuch, the villagers were filled with amaze- 
ment, also they were vastly relieved, not sharing 
their headmen’s dark forebodings. Men and 
boys, women, girls, and children, prompted by 
curiosity to penetrate the mystery of this house, 
followed in the procession. 

Fen-Sha and Follingsbee had remained unob- 
trusively in the background, but kept themselves 
informed of the progress of the negotiations in the 
Inn of Peace and Security, and, when the strange 
army began to move upon the Chief Eunuch’s 
house, in the western outskirts of the village, they 
made their way to the front, keeping close to the 
King and his guides. 

The house was surrounded by high brick walls. 
The gates were closed and barred. The village 
headmen advanced and knocked loudly upon the 
wooden panels. A slide was opened and a tingi 
(gate-keeper), with official hat upon his head, 
peered out. 

14 What do you want?” he inquired gruffly. 
But when he saw the horde of beggars behind the 
headmen, he slammed the slide shut, nor would 


360 The Breath of the Dragon 


repeated knockings and loud commands induce 
him to open it again. 

‘‘You perceive we are powerless; we can do 
nothing. He won’t admit us if we knock here all 
day, ” said the headmen addressing the King. 

“Well, stand there and knock till I tell you to 
stop,” replied the King, coolly. 

They thought it best to obey and fell to pound- 
ing on the gates again with great vigour. 

But, in the meanwhile, the King motioned to his 
army. The beggars appeared to understand. 
Without a word they approached the wall; the 
first comers crouched down; those behind them 
got on the backs thus offered and scrambled like 
monkeys to the top of the wall, from which point 
they aided their less agile companions to mount. 

Before many minutes had passed and while the 
tingi was yet cynically listening to the loud banging 
on the gate, the wall above his head was swarm- 
ing with a ragged mass of human beings. Sud- 
denly he looked up. He gave a shout of alarm. 
Servants ran from the house into the court, then 
ran back again to procure weapons with which to 
drive the strange invaders from the walls. 

They were not quick enough. The beggars 
dropped like a swarm of locusts into the court, and 
driving the frightened tingi from his post, threw 
open the gates. 

The remainder of the ragged battalion, headed by 
the King, rushed in. The frightened villagers did 
not follow. By this time the servants had col- 


• The Beggars’ Raid 


361 


lected their wits and their weapons ; they prepared 
to attack the invaders. They were greeted with 
fearful yells, curses, and grimaces. Before they 
could do more than strike down those nearest 
them, they were fairly crawled over and upon, as 
if by a horde of insects. The beggars twined them- 
selves about their opponents’ bodies, biting with 
cracked and yellow teeth, pinching with black, 
scarred, and horrid fingers; they were like scorpions, 
centipedes, poisonous spiders. The servants fought 
valiantly to free themselves and called upon the 
villagers crowded near the gates to come to their 
assistance. Not a man of Yang-lin moved. The 
house, the owner, and his servants bore an evil 
name; besides it were better in their opinion that 
the beggars should vent their spiteful rage here 
than in the village. 

Fen-Sha and Follingsbee had been among the 
first to scale the wall and drop into the court; 
they left the beggars to their fighting and suc- 
ceeded in entering the house. They found them- 
selves in a magnificent apartment — not even the 
Empress Dowager in her Summer Palace could 
boast of possessing one more beautiful. It was 
spacious and lofty ; arches of rare wood, exquisitely 
carved, so delicate, so open, they seemed like lace, 
were lined with apricot silk; for here Cobbler’s 
Wax Li had arrogated to himself the right to use 
the imperial colour. On the walls hung wonder- 
fully embroidered panels and rare paintings, soft 
rugs, in subdued rich shades, covered the tiled 


3 62 The Breath of the Dragon 


floor, and everywhere were antique bronzes, cloi- 
sonne vases and urns in which seemed to grow 
flowering jade pomegranate and orange trees and 
shrubs of fantastic shape, yet which were not 
displeasing to the eye. Not a soul was in the 
apartment. As Fen-Sha and Follingsbee stood 
for a moment irresolute, they saw a curtain at the 
farther end of the room moved slightly by some 
hand upon the other side. Simultaneously they 
rushed towards it and jerked the curtain open. 
A half dozen young women, painted red and white 
and gorgeously attired, screamed and fled like 
butterflies the length of the room. The two men 
went in hot pursuit to intercept their flight, at the 
same time beseeching them not to be alarmed as no 
harm was intended them. The young men were 
relieved to find their assurance calmed the little 
ladies, for they stopped, turned, and faced their 
pursuers. They looked at them demurely, then 
coquettishly and began to titter. Fen-Sha scanned 
their faces eagerly; A-lu-te’s was not among their 
number. 

“What do our Lords require of us?” asked the 
prettiest in the bunch, casting down her eyes, and 
glancing swiftly up again in a manner meant to be 
provocative. 

“Who are you?” asked Fen-Sha. 

They tittered and did not answer. Fen-Sha 
frowned. 

“I am in no mood to joke and play with you. 
Answer my questions and you will not be harmed, 


The Beggar’s Raid 


363 


refuse and I call in the beggars out there in the 
court.” His tone admitted of no doubt as to the 
seriousness of the threat. 

The painted dolls ceased tittering, ceased ogling ; 
they looked alarmed. 

“My Lord,” said the prettiest one again, “I 
will answer as best I can. We belong to the house- 
hold of the great Chamberlain, Li Lien Ying, 
who comes here for rest and recreation from his 
arduous duties of state.” 

She tried to impart, both in speech and manner, 
an impression of honour and dignity to the position 
they occupied in the place. But Fen-Sha’ s look 
of scorn, and the pity and contempt pictured on 
the face of Follingsbee, had the effect of humiliat- 
ing and angering her. “And,” she continued 
shrilly, “you must leave here instantly, taking 
with you the monkey-face horde you came with. 
I saw you on the wall with the creatures command- 
ing, directing them. The Lord of Nine Thousand 
Years shall be informed and do not doubt but that 
he will avenge the insult of your presence in his 
house. Even now he is on his way here. May he 
have your bones splintered, your flesh made 
jelly!” 

Fen-Sha ignored her agreeable wishes. “Are 
there any other women in the house?” he asked 
sharply. 

The painted, doll-like faces looked at each other 
and maintained silence. 

“Answer, ” said Fen-Sha, striding towards them. 


364 The Breath of the Dragon 


They retreated hurriedly, still silent. He seized 
one of them — she who had spoken — by the arm 
and dragged her towards the first apartment. “It 
may be the beggars can make you speak,” he 
said grimly. 

She eluded his grasp and fell on her knees, 
trembling now with fear. “Do not hand me over 
to them, my Lord. I will answer all your ques- 
tions, I will tell you everything I know.” 

“See to it that you speak the truth then,” re- 
plied Fen-Sha in a harsh voice. “Was a young 
Manchu lady brought into this house two nights 
ago?” 

“No, my Lord.” 

“You lie — I go to summon the beggars,” and he 
made two strides towards the door. 

She called in terror after him, “Wait, wait, my 
Lord ; I did lie, for, though it appeared to be a youth 
whom Ho-Shu, the eunuch, brought here the other 
night, tied hand and feet, yet we know her to be a 
woman. We were peering out when he came and 
we saw her face — it was the face of a woman. ” 

“Where is she? Quick — answer! If you lie 
again I’ll show no mercy, nor the beggars neither. ” 

“My Lord, I cannot tell you where she is, for I 
do not know. When Ho-Shu carried her — she was 
as one dead — we watched him pass into the garden 
and disappear. We dared not follow, but, by and 
by, he came back — alone. He said the Lord of 
Nine Thousand Years would be here today, and 
if we pried where we had no business to pry in the 


The Beggars’ Raid 


365 


garden, he would find it out and punish us severely. 
Oh, my Lord, my Lord, let him not know that I 
have told you — he would kill me in his wrath. ” 
“Have no fear — if he comes, ’tis I who will do 
the killing — not he. ” There was ferociousness in 
Fen-Sha’s voice and face. Even the woman, 
though she felt relieved, recoiled from him fright- 
ened, while the five fluttering butterflies, clinging 
to one another in the far corner, screamed again. 
But Fen-Sha paid no heed to them, nor to the 
increasing clamour in the court. He tore open 
a window and sprang into the garden. Follings- 
bee had been a silent spectator to this scene, yet 
had kept his eyes and ears alert, lest the servants, 
fighting outside, heard the women scream and 
returned to their assistance. He gave one swift 
parting glance towards the door, then jumped from 
the window to follow Fen-Sha. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE GAMBLERS 

The Chinese have a proverb which reads, “The 
dog in the kennel barks at his fleas, but the dog 
who is hunting does not feel them. ” 

The half-starved, maimed beggars did not feel 
their infirmities, did not heed the whips and 
weapons of the servants frantically striving to 
force them back as they penetrated into the hand- 
some apartments of Li Lien Ying’s villa. The 
women, whom Fen-Sha and Follingsbee had just 
left, fled shrieking from the room as the beggars 
entered. No one pursued them. What did they 
care for women when, for the picking up, they had 
their choice of splendid treasures? They shouted 
with wonder, greed, and delight. The servants 
did not attempt to stop their depredations; they 
were rushing to the protection of the women and 
vanished with them in a distant part of the house, 
where they listened, stupid with fear, to the con- 
fused tumult of the beggars. These, intoxicated 
with their easy victory, and the promised satis- 
faction of their greed, fell upon the silk embroid- 
ered curtains, tore them down and wrapped them 
366 


The Gamblers 


367 


about their rags, or made receptacles of them to 
hold the gold and silver vases, the miniature trees 
and flowers of jade, exquisite in design, colour, and 
carving. They picked out the jewels in the inlaid 
cabinets and tables with sharpened points of 
sticks or with their finger nails. They seized the 
priceless panel paintings which adorned the walls — 
paintings of great artists in the Tang dynasty when 
France was still a country of barbarians, and the 
Druids dwelt yet in the British Isles. They broke 
into thousands of fragments the beautiful haw- 
thorn ginger- jars, the rose-coloured, translucent 
egg-shell vases, in their fury to seize them. The 
rooms echoed with shouts of triumph, yells of rage 
over disputed possessions, and with wild discordant 
laughter. Then the dreadful torrent, leaving ruin 
in its wake, swept out through the courtyard into 
the highroad, where the villagers, afraid to follow 
them into the house, had withdrawn to await the 
next scene in the drama. 

They squatted in the dust of the road and soon 
became absorbed in an occupation even more 
congenial to them than looting. They gambled, 
staking their newly acquired possessions against 
the money of the villagers. The largest group was 
gathered around the King. This personage was 
seated on a magnificent cloisonne urn; nothing 
could be seen of him but his hideous face peering 
above the urn and his half naked legs hanging over 
the sides. 

Excitement in the group around him was run- 


368 The Breath of the Dragon 


ning high. A village gamester, who had already 
lost all his money to the King in the gambling 
bout between them, even the clothes upon his 
back, stood stripped to the skin while the King 
fantastically draped the garments he had won 
about his head like a huge turban and shouted for a 
man to approach with something to stake. The 
nude gamester protested angrily that he would 
play again and that this time he would win. 

“Huh!” jeered the beggars, “what have you left 
to stake?” 

“The forefinger of my right hand against all 
this, ” replied the fellow coolly, indicating the loot 
at the King’s side. 

At this announcement the King’s mouth opened 
wide in a laugh of ferocious merriment. The news 
spread among the other groups, that a man, having 
nothing left to gamble, was going to stake his 
finger against the King’s share of loot. 

Beggars, and villagers, crowded around the two 
principal players, pushing, laughing, cursing, 
intent upon obtaining a near view of this exciting 
game. In the meanwhile preparations were made 
for the play. A free circle was formed by crowding 
back the excited throng and in the centre a small 
fire was lighted. Beside the fire a broken knife 
was laid which the King had previously ordered one 
of his beggar knaves to carefully sharpen upon a 
stone. Then the dice-throwing began. The spec- 
tators in the rear pushed those in front, and craned 
their necks, and stood on tiptoe in efforts to see. 


The Gamblers 


369 


A few minutes of partial silence reigned. Soon 
a shout of triumph from the King announced that 
the villager had lost again. The rabble applauded 
with roars of laughter. The King crawled like a 
hideous black beetle from his urn, and, guided by 
one of his subjects, gripped the hand of the nude 
gamester. Both men knelt on the ground. The 
stone upon which the broken knife had been 
sharpened was pushed towards them. With per- 
fect stoicism, the villager laid his finger on the 
stone; the King took the knife and, first feeling 
with ferocious carefulness the exact length of the 
finger, in order not to lose an iota of his winnings, 
cut the finger off to its root. Had he possessed 
eyes, he could not have measured better. He 
turned the urn upside down, and, mounting it, 
waved the finger high above his head, that all 
might see it, making the while horrible grimaces, 
evincing his joy. The vanquished gamester said 
not a word; he might have lost a slipper from his 
foot, for any sign of pain he gave. He took a 
burning stick from the fire, and coolly held the 
flames to his bleeding hand till the wound was 
cauterized. While all were intent upon this scene, 
a man in the rear of the crowd shouted suddenly, 
“Cobbler’s Wax Li is coming!” This announce- 
ment produced an instantaneous effect. All 
turned to look. Far down the road a little column 
of dust rose in the air. That sight was sufficient. 
The villagers, men, women, and children ran swiftly 
back to their homes. The King kept his position 


370 The Breath of the Dragon 


on the upturned urn long enough to roar com- 
mands to his army, then sprang down, and with 
two men guiding him, fled in the opposite direction, 
which was Pekingward, followed by the beggars 
laden with their loot. 


CHAPTER XXV 


IN THE VILLA 

When Fen-Sha and Follingsbee jumped from 
the window, they found themselves — though 
they did not know it, nor would have cared 
had they been aware of it — in a garden laid 
out after the celebrated one of the philosopher, 
Sse ma Kouang. Winding through the garden, 
which comprised not more than three or four acres, 
was a charming little rivulet, that fell from an 
artificial hiil on the west, and splashing down into 
a deep pool was diverted into four shining stream- 
lets which meandered through tiny meadows and 
lovely parks. Brilliant aquatic birds swam in the 
water. The banks were terraced and covered with 
roses, or pomegranate and oleander trees and per- 
simmons, whose fruit hung in the autumn like 
brilliant red globes from the branches. Graceful 
bridges of marble spanned the rivulets at intervals 
and led to summer houses, miniature pagodas, and 
fern-grown grottoes. Here and there were little 
islands with rustic seats in the shade of flowering, 
sweet-scented mimosa trees. But of all this 
loveliness Fen-Sha saw nothing and Follingsbee 
37i 


372 The Breath of the Dragon 


only vaguely. They ran down winding walks, 
canopied by weeping willows; they crossed the 
little bridges to peer into pleasant grottoes and 
summer houses and pagodas. Of A-lu-te they 
found not a trace. They came at last upon a 
barrier of rocks fantastically heaped to represent 
a camel’s back ; at the bottom of this barrier and 
cunningly veiled by a thicket of tufted bamboo and 
honeysuckle vines, was an opening into which they 
rushed with an exultant cry. They penetrated a 
deep grotto, which grew narrower and deeper as 
they advanced, till finally it terminated in a 
black sloping pit where they could with difficulty 
stand upright and where the gloom was impene- 
trable, the air fetid, and where soft slimy mud 
covered their feet. 

“A-lu-te,” called Fen-Sha, as he groped help- 
lessly about in the blackness. “A-lu-te, are you 
here?” No answer. Follingsbee struck a match. 
On the ground in a muddy pool of water, tied hands 
and feet with coarse hempen ropes, was A-lu-te. 
Here she had lain for long hours, night and day, 
at first struggling painfully to free herself from the 
ropes which cut into her soft, delicate flesh, then 
motionless, almost without breathing, as one 
whose frail form has been crushed beneath the 
weight of heavy stones above her, stones which 
hid her from the outside world, from the flowering 
garden, where birds sang joyfully in the sunshine, 
and where the silly little women of Li’s house- 
hold came to play and scold and chatter like bright- 


In the Villa 


373 


plumed paroquets, with never a thought of her 
perishing near them. The water trickled from the 
mouldy stones and formed a bed for her to lie in. 
The fear of dying alone in the blackness had at 
first overcome her and she had called again and 
again to Ho-Shu when he brought her, to come 
back, even if only to taunt and mock her. She had 
cried like a child, imploring, coaxing, raging. He 
had returned and, holding high the lantern, had 
peered down upon her with leering face to say, 
“ You won’t be long alone, my dear. Li Lien Ying 
will soon be here to make you a little visit. ” 

And the chill which her body felt in the cold 
atmosphere of that black pit penetrated to her 
heart. She hoped then she would die before Li 
came. The hours passed; she lay there, neither 
waking nor sleeping, in a state of semi-conscious- 
ness, when she was roused by a voice. It was a 
voice which she constantly dreamed of, but never 
thought to hear again, the voice of one she loved 
better than life, better than the sunshine, than 
the sweet fresh air, or the song of the birds; it 
was the voice of Fen-Sha calling her name. She 
had tried to answer, struggling to raise her head 
from the mud, making one supreme effort to put 
forth strength in her tones. Then she fell back. 
No voice penetrated her tired brain now, not even 
the voice of Fen-Sha. 

And so he found her, the dainty maiden, whose 
beauty, gaiety, and sweetness had been the happi- 
ness of his stormy, perilous career. He lifted the 


374 


The Breath of the Dragon 


poor mud-covered little body in his arms and 
carried it carefully as a mother carries her sick 
child, from the grotto into the garden. To Fol- 
lingsbee’ s expression of horror, pity, and wrath at 
the girl’s pathetic plight, he made no answer, nor 
did a word fall from his lips till, out in the si in- 
shine, he said, “Go first, be my sword arm, I 
entreat you.” 

“Is it needful to entreat?” replied Follingsbee 
reproachfully. 

They ran, Follingsbee leading. 

The clamour of fighting appeared to have ceased. 
As they hurried through the winding paths, along 
the rose bordered rivulets, and approached the 
house, they saw no one. In the magnificent apart- 
ment, where they had first encountered the women, 
were evidences of shameless looting. The place 
was deserted, — not a beggar, not a servant, was 
in sight. Follingsbee thought he heard a woman’s 
whimper, but dared not stop to investigate. In 
the courtyard the same ominous silence met them. 
In one corner lay what appeared to be a bundle of 
clothes, but which was in reality the tingi, his 
legs broken by blows from a beggar’s cudgel. 

Fen-Sha and Follingsbee sped across the large 
court to the open gate. They had barely reached 
it, when the sound of quick galloping struck their 
ears. Cautiously they peered out. Less than a 
yard away was a group of horsemen in the official 
uniform of Li Lien Ying’s outriders. 

“The Chief Eunuch’s escort!” gasped Fen-Sha 


In the Villa 


375 


and, even as he said the words, Follingsbee 
slammed the great gates shut and barred them. 

For a moment the two men stood staring dumbly 
at each other. What was to be done now? 
Escape from the villa was cut off ; they could only 
seek a hiding-place somewhere in the house. Al- 
ready loud shouting for the tingi was heard and 
pounding upon the gates. They turned and ran 
back into the house. If the servants should hear 
their master’s voice and crawl from their hiding- 
places, the game was up. Fen-Sha’s arm tight- 
ened around A-lu-te’s slender form; Follingsbee 
instinctively felt for his revolver only to remember 
that the beggars had stolen it in the House of the 
Hens’ Feathers, leaving him the cartridges. The 
pounding on the gates increased in violence, then 
was followed by clattering of horses’ hoofs in the 
court. 

“Quick!” cried Follingsbee, “back into the 
garden! We may be able to scale the wall!” 

“It’s twenty feet high and has iron spikes on 
top,” said Fen-Sha without moving. His eyes 
scanned the apartment. “That small door to 
the right — see where it leads. ” Follingsbee pushed 
the door open and entered a dimly lighted room. 
Two huge, newly lacquered coffins 1 loomed up 
sombrely before him. “A death chamber!” he 
exclaimed turning to come out. Fen-Sha pushed 

1 Every Chinese buys as handsome a coffin as he can afford 
for himself and generally keeps it in his house as he would a pieca 
of furniture. 


376 The Breath of the Dragon 


past him. “No,” he said, “not a death cham- 
ber — yet. Close the door again, but do not lock 
it.” 


In a chair carried by four brawny bearers and 
surrounded by mounted attendants, among them 
the eunuch Ho-Shu, sat Cobbler’s Wax Li, splen- 
didly apparelled. He had left the Summer 
Palace that morning without telling the Empress 
Dowager of A-lu-te’s capture. 

The knowledge that his victim was safely im- 
prisoned in the grotto of his garden and without 
possibility of escape (for Ho-Shu had securely 
bound her) had made him content to await his 
opportunity of feasting his eyes upon her, of 
enjoying her abject fear before she was done to 
death with the tortures he designed for her. 

The morning of A-lu-te’s flight from the Palace, 
when he had cynically watched each step of her 
fancied escape from the eminence of the round 
tower and marked the exact spot in the tall 
Kaoliang where she had disappeared dressed in the 
clothes of the dead peasant boy outside the gates, 
he had not lost sight of her one moment. He had 
given his instructions to Ho-Shu to press her 
flight towards the village of Yang-lin, near his 
villa, and there seize her. In the meanwhile he, 
himself, had informed the Empress Dowager of 
A-lu-te’s flight. The Old Buddha’s rage had been 
terrible; he almost repented of having allowed the 
girl to escape from the Palace, for it was upon his 


In the Villa 


377 


head that the Empress Dowager’s fury broke. 
She upbraided and reviled him, she threatened him 
with dismissal, for hours she refused to allow him 
to speak to, or approach, her, while she alternately 
wept and stormed in her pavilion. He became 
alarmed; had he not been afraid to trust a mes- 
senger, he would have sent after Ho-Shu and 
changed his instructions and had A-lu-te promptly 
brought back to the Palace. 

But he tided the storm, for the Empress Dow- 
ager hearing of the efforts he had put forth to find 
the girl, of the numerous detachments of Banner- 
men he had sent scouring the hills and plain in 
every direction (but the right one), had relented 
sufficiently to send for him and learn from his own 
lips all that he was doing. After that, it had been 
an easy matter to again ingratiate himself with 
her; he even succeeded in gaining merit in her 
eyes by the zeal he displayed in organizing and 
directing the search. 

Now at last he had come to enjoy his revenge. 
All the way from the Summer Palace he had gone 
over and over again the scene he intended enacting 
when he reached the grotto. He rehearsed in 
detail all the refinement of tortures he had planned 
before she was done to death by slow smothering 
in mud. 

He rubbed his big hands together in the grim 
pleasure evoked by these pictures. As he drew 
nearer the village of Yang-lin his impatience to 
arrive increased. From behind the silk curtains 


378 The Breath of the Dragon 


he shouted to the perspiring bearers to hasten ; he 
threatened them with application of the big bam- 
boo upon the soles of their already aching feet, 
if they did not run faster. He could hear them 
panting in their increased efforts at speed, as if 
their lungs would crack. 

Finally they stopped before the gates of his 
villa. Li stepped from his chair without a glance 
at the bearers who dropped like dead mules on the 
ground. 

The mafoos had jumped from their horses and 
were already pounding for admittance. The tingi 
did not open the gates nor peer out upon them 
through the panel slides. Li roared and stamped 
furiously upon the ground, demanding of his 
frightened attendants the meaning of this unpre- 
cedented ignoring of his presence. They knew no 
more than he and were afraid to remind him of the 
fact. Within the court profound silence reigned. 
“Break down the gates!” commanded the Chief 
Eunuch. “The tingi' s head shall be stuck on a 
pole to ornament the broken gates.” 

The doors were about to be battered down, 
when they slowly opened. The Chief Eunuch 
entered with an oath on his lips and stopped, 
struck dumb with what he saw. The court was 
strewn with shreds of filthy rags and portions of the 
garments worn by the servants of his villa. At his 
feet lay the tingi senseless, a deep gash in his head 
where he had fallen and with both legs broken. 
He had managed to crawl on his hands to open the 


In the Villa 


379 


gates for his master, then had dropped. He 
appeared to be dead. Farther off were the bodies 
of three beggars. Here and there in the court, 
stamped in the dirt, ruined beyond repair, were 
panel paintings ; some of these Li recognized as the 
most priceless in his cherished collection. He 
found his voice at last and fairly spat the curses 
which had been choking him from his mouth. 
Striding through the court he entered the house. 
Here the scene was even worse. Everything was 
in confusion, the furniture was smashed, his val- 
uable jars, bowls, and vases broken and others 
gone. The Chief Eunuch tore from one room to 
another in a frenzy of rage, roaring like a madman. 
He shouted for the servants, for the women of his 
household. At last he found them, huddled to- 
gether in the far end of the house, the women 
whimpering, the servants with their long coats 
torn, their official hats hanging down their backs, 
or entirely off, their teeth chattering, and this last 
because of their fear of him, which exceeded their 
fear of the invading beggar horde. 

With difficulty the Chief Eunuch obtained an 
account of what had occurred that morning. He 
listened in cold concentrated wrath. He believed 
the raid to have been entirely a beggars’ raid for 
loot, unsurpassed in Chinese history for its au- 
dacity, and for which the King of the Beggars, 
responsible to the State for the conduct of his sub- 
jects, should be made to pay with his life. It was 
only when the women took up the tale and told 


380 The Breath of the Dragon 


of two men, not mendicants, who had forced their 
way to their apartments (in which statement 
the poor things lied glibly, for they, themselves, 
had penetrated to the front of the house to watch 
with fearful curiosity the uproar in the court) 
and demanded whether a strange Manchu woman 
was secreted there, that the Chief Eunuch’s anger 
took another turn. He poured forth questions in 
such rapid succession the women had trouble to 
keep pace with their answers. Having learnt all 
they had to tell, he commanded them to remain 
where they were and left the room with Ho-Shu. 
The two eunuchs made haste to reach the grotto. 
They found A-lu-te gone. The hempen cords 
which had held her securely bound were lying on 
the ground and everywhere the marks of feet, not 
hers, showed in the mud about them. 

Fool!” cried the Chief Eunuch, turning upon 
his henchman because of the necessity he was 
under to vent his rage upon someone without 
delay, “Fool, why did you bring her here? Were 
there no dark chambers in my villa, with locks and 
bars, where she could have been thrown?” 

And he struck Ho-Shu a blow across the mouth. 
The eunuch spat out the blood and two front teeth, 
then answered sullenly: “ I did as you commanded; 
you said the cave was filled with slime and reptiles 
and that here she would suffer more; and I tied 
her hand and foot, as these ropes can testify. 
How should I know that anyone would find 
her?” 


In the Villa 381 

“ Silence !” roared Li, “or I will wring your 
cursed neck.” 

The Chief Eunuch had a powerful frame; there 
was no question of his ability to do as he threatened. 

They returned in silence to the house. 

“Go fetch the tingi ,” commanded Li, on being 
told that the man still lived. 

The gatekeeper, being unable to walk, was 
carried into Li’s presence and dropped on the 
floor before him. 

“Did you see two men, who entered with the 
beggars, leave again?” 

“My Lord, I saw them and they have not left 
the villa.” 

“Beware lest your tongue speaks lies — how do 
you know they did not leave with the beggar 
horde?” 

“Because, my Lord, I saw them with these two 
eyes running towards the gates just as your Lord- 
ship was arriving. One of them carried a youth 
in his arms. At the time your Lordship demanded 
admittance I was at the extreme end of the court, 
unable to use my legs, broken as they were by those 
vile creatures w T ith their cudgels, and I could only 
crawl slowly on my hands to ” 

“Did I ask about you and your miserable legs, 
fellow? What did the two men?” 

“They spoke low to one another, then ran with 
all speed back into the house. ” 

1 ‘ Ah ! they did that ? They ran into the house ? ’ ’ 
said Li and a smile, slow, cunning, unpleasant to 


382 The Breath of the Dragon 

A 

see, came into his face. ‘‘Enough, take the fellow 
away; let his head be struck off and affixed to a 
pole over the gates. It will serve to remind the 
next tingi what fate awaits him if he lets down the 
bars to admit vermin into his master’s house.” 

“Mercy! My Lord, mercy!” cried the tingi • 
“I did not open the gates. By the graves of my 
ancestors, I did not ; I let the creatures storm and 
shout and never lifted down a bar. I ” 

“Remove him,” said the Chief Eunuch coldly. 

The wretch was dragged out, still crying for 
mercy. 

“And you,” continued Li, in short, sharp tones, 
to his servants, “search every room in the house 
— allow not a nook, a corner, to escape your eyes. 
Ten of you go with Ho-Shu into the garden; ex- 
amine carefully every clump of bushes, every 
summer house, pagoda, grotto. I make each one 
among you responsible if these robbers, hiding on 
my premises, are not brought before me within the 
hour. See to it!” 

The servants fell on their knees, struck their 
foreheads on the ground, then rose as if pulled by 
a single string, and rushed off to begin their 
search. 

Li walked up and down the room with long, 
soft-footed strides. Now and again he stood 
still listening. He gave the effect of a hyena, 
sniffing the air. 

On one of these occasions he seemed to be seized 
with a sudden thought, for he flung the door open 


In the Villa 


383 


into the coffin-room and stood on the threshold 
peering in. Then he entered. A look of relief 
and satisfaction came into his face when he saw 
that the handsome lacquered coffins he had ordered 
constructed for himself and his favourite woman 
had not been molested by the beggars. He lighted 
a cloisonne lantern, a veritable work of art, which 
hung from the ceiling, and, bending over the coffin 
nearest him, scrutinized the rich lacquer coating 
carefully. No! it had not been injured. He 
examined the second coffin; this, also, was unim- 
paired. He was about to lift the lid of the coffin 
to look inside, not because he retained a fear that 
this magnificent last bed of his had been polluted 
by the touch of filthy, sacrilegious hands, but to 
pleasure his eye with a glance at the rich apricot 
silk with which it was lined; for in this instance 
he had not trespassed on the royal prerogative, — 
Tzu Hsi had accorded him the privilege of using 
the imperial colour after death. The door of the 
outer room burst open and the servants, Ho-Shu 
in the lead, rushed in. Li turned, seated himself 
on the unopened coffin lid, and called them to 
approach. 

They crowded into the little room. 

“Lord of Nine Thousand Years!” said Ho-Shu, 
with a curious mingling of fear, spite, and malicious 
joy in his voice — he had not forgotten the blow 
on his mouth and the loss of his front teeth. 
“We have discovered where and how the men 
escaped. ” 


384 The Breath of the Dragon 


“So, they have escaped? You know this?” 
Under the quietness of Li’s tones lay something 
menacing. 

“Yes, my Lord,” continued Ho-Shu hardily. 
“We had examined every spot in the garden which 
could offer even a semblance of a hiding-place. 
Twice we made the rounds of the garden and twice 
we skirted the wall, which, as your Lordship knows, 
is high and well protected against marauders with 
iron spikes. Though I well knew that it was im- 
possible for any man to escape over the wall, still 
I determined to look even there, so I had a ladder 
brought, and mounting it, assured myself that no 
one could find foothold between the spikes. While 
I was on the top round of the ladder it broke and 
gave way ; I fell, and in falling my body hit against 
the wall near the ground. I put my hands out to 
save myself; great was my astonishment to find 
the wall yield, as it were, to my touch and open, 
disclosing a passageway along the side. ” 

At these words, the Chief Eunuch, who had 
evinced tokens of uneasiness as Ho-Shu’ s narrative 
proceeded, sprang from his coffin seat and glared 
furiously at his henchman. “Did you enter?” he 
shouted hoarsely. Ho-Shu’ s face showed a bland 
cunning. “Assuredly, Lord of Nine Thousand 
Years, I entered, and not I alone, but those with 
me, and even the other servants, for I called them 
all, fearing to enter alone. We followed the 
passage in the wall and came to an underground 
loom filled with sacks. ” 


In the Villa 


385 


Li cast his eyes over his servants. All were now 
in the secret guarded so jealously for years. His 
treasure chamber, where he hoarded his vast 
fortune, was known to every servant in his house, 
and they were sixty in number. Had Ho-Shu 
kept the discovery to himself, it had been an easy 
matter to guard against a disclosure, but the sly 
eunuch had taken the precaution of summoning 
the entire household to penetrate with him the 
secret passage. 

The discovery of his hidden treasure cave touched 
the Chief Eunuch more nearly than the escape of 
A-lu-te. How many of his precious sacks had 
they stolen between them? He would go himself 
and find out and have the entrance walled up until 
he could have another hiding-place constructed. 

Pale and trembling with wrath, he left the room, 
commanding his servants — winking slyly now at 
one another — to follow. It was indeed an unlucky 
day for Cobbler’s Wax Li. It was also, had he 
but known it, an unlucky day for Ho-Shu, for, 
in spite of his precaution to admit all of Li’s 
household into the secret of the hidden treasure 
chamber in order to insure his own safety, his fate 
was sealed in the dark mind of the Chief Eunuch. 

Scarcely had Li Lien Ying and his servants left 
the room when Fen-Sha and Follingsbee raised the 
lid of the coffin upon which Li had sat and wherein 
they were well-nigh suffocated and crawled out. 
Then they lifted the still unconscious A-lu-te from 
her gloomy couch in the second coffin and cau- 
*5 


386 The Breath of the Dragon 


tiously made their way through the adjoining room 
out into the court. Hugging the shadow of the 
wall they were approaching the gates, when a shrill 
feminine shriek reached them, then another and 
another. Fen-Sha made a dash for the gates; 
Follingsbee followed, but not before he turned to 
verify a suspicion. In the doorway watching 
them stood the prettiest of the painted dolls they 
had encountered in Li’s villa that day. Her ex- 
pression was vindictive ; her shrieks were loud ; they 
were meant to penetrate to the garden, where the 
Chief Eunuch and his servants had gone. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


IN THE HUT OF A “DEVIL’S PUPIL” 

“Your Majesty, my teacher was a plaiter of 
mats living in the village of Yang-lin.” 

S’ang was standing beside Kuang Hsu’s chair. 
The Emperor was turning the leaves of a book new 
to him, called the Gospel of St. John. S’ang had 
been reading it aloud. 

“A plaiter of mats? How comes it that he can 
read and is a teacher?” 

“He was not always a plaiter of mats, your 
Maj esty . Many years ago he was in the household 
of a foreign missionary, an old man killed by the 
people in the province of Shantung where he lived. 
Pu-lun escaped, for in their rage- they tried to kill 
him also. He fled north, returning to his old home 
in Yang-lin. Here he weaves mats for a living and 
teaches all those who are willing to learn. The 
villagers do not molest him, for his reputation 
among them is that of an honest and industrious 
man. But neither do they listen to his teachings. 
He is not a scholar ; his ignorance of the classics is as 
profound as that of any other plaiter of mats; yet 
when he speaks of God there lies in his tongue such 
387 


388 The Breath of the Dragon 


power as truth alone possesses. Those who will 
but listen to him cannot help believing ; and when 
he reads from the Holy Book, a wonderful peace 
comes to the heart; misfortunes, the sorrows of 
this life grow vague, intangible, and rise from the 
heart to disappear like vapour from the boiling 
kettle. ” 

“I would like to see and hear this man,” mur- 
mured Kuang Hsu. 

“That is easily arranged,” returned S'ang 
quickly. 

“What! Give audience in the Palace to a 
plaiter of mats? The idea is preposterous!” 

“Your Majesty can see and hear him without 
summoning him to the Palace,” suggested S’ang. 

The young Emperor looked up eagerly. “ Speak 
plainly,” he commanded. 

“Your Majesty can ride to the village of Yang- 
lin and go to the house of Pu-lun. It is not neces- 
sary that this be known to anyone. Yang-lin 
is not many Us distant; a cart is easy to procure; 
plain garments also. Your slave can drive a mule 
as well as another and the small gate near the East 
Gate Glorious has been used before this by those 
who desired to leave the Yellow City unobserved. ” 

“By Buddha! The idea is good!” cried Kuang 
Hsu with delight. “The Emperor Ching was 
accustomed to roam the streets of Peking dis- 
guised as a common coolie to learn the disposition 
and character of his people. Why should not I 
follow his excellent example? Make ready. Let 


In the Hut of a “ Devil’s Pupil ” 389 


it be known that I, having need of rest, have 
retired to my couch and must not be disturbed. 
Hasten. ” 

Kuang Hsu’s blood leaped and bounded in his 
veins with the joyful anticipation of freedom for 
a few hours from the gloomy restraint, the weary 
monotony of life in the Forbidden City. 

S’ang was not long in making the needful ar- 
rangements. Dressed as a well-to-do gentleman 
of the middle class, Kuang Hsu sat on the floor of 
the blue-topped cart looking out on the streets 
of his capital, which, for the first time in his young 
life, were not deserted at his approach, and were 
not covered with yellow sand — how he had 
grown to hate that sand, part emblem of his soli- 
tariness I The shop doors and windows were not 
closed and multitudes of human beings were 
about him. 

A prisoner escaped from his cell, breathing again 
the fresh air of the outdoor world, seeing again 
the blue sky over him, would have felt as young 
Kuang Hsu felt that day. He was no longer the 
lonely, unhappy bearer of the imperial title; he 
was a young man tingling with a sense of com- 
panionship heretofore denied him, elated by the 
sights and sounds about him of a busy workaday 
world. His pale, handsome face, habitually over- 
cast by sadness, weariness, or the stormy clouds 
of an uncontrolled temper, now shone with gay 
audacity, with lively humour, with a disposition 
sweet as nature had originally intended it should be 


390 The Breath of the Dragon 


but which fate in the shape of Tzu Hsi had changed 
the day she placed him on the Dragon Throne. 

He felt immensely happy; frequently he left 
the cart to enter a shop, or tea-house; he laughed 
and bantered with S’ang, till the eunuch came near 
forgetting that this gay young fellow was the 
gloomy “Solitary One” of the Forbidden City. 

Progress through the city was slow, because of 
Kuang Hsu’s reiterated commands to halt, while 
he loitered in the streets and mingled with the 
crowds. They passed a wine shop, made fashion- 
able by the young bloods of Peking. Song and 
laughter reached them from the open windows. 
Kuang Hsu, with a gay gesture to S’ang to wait, 
entered the shop. A dozen or more young dandies 
were in the room, their half -filled cups before them, 
their faces faintly wine-flushed. One of them was 
singing. The words were coarse, the melody un- 
tuneful. The song was applauded by everyone 
but Kuang Hsu. He seated himself at a small 
table and ordered wine from an attendant. 

“Sir stranger,” gibed a young blade near him, 
“it appears the song has not pleased you. You 
sing perhaps a better one when you drink with your 
friends?” 

“When I drink with my friends?” A cloud 
passed over Kuang Hsu’s face, as he repeated the 
question sombrely. His friends ! Why he had not 
one ! Then his manner changed again and a note 
of raillery crept into his voice, raillery at himself. 
1 ‘ W ould you hear my song ? ” he cried. And with- 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 391 


out waiting for an answer, he raised high his wine- 
cup and sang : 

“Here are flowers, and here is wine; 

But where’s a friend with me to join 
Hand to hand and heart to heart 
In one full cup before we part? 

Rather than to drink alone, 

I’ll make bold to ask the moon 
To condescend to lend her face 
To grace the hour and the place. 

Lo ! she answers and she brings 
My shadow on her silver wings; 

That makes three, and we shall be, 

I ween, a merry company. 

The modest moon declines the cup, 

But shadow promptly takes it up; 

And when I dance my shadow fleet 
Keeps measure with my flying feet. 

Yet though the moon declines to tipple, 

She dances in yon shining ripple; 

And when I sing my festive song 
The echoes of the moon prolong. 

Say when shall we next meet together? 

Surely not in cloudy weather; 

For you, my boon companions dear, 

Come only when the sky is clear .” 1 
1 “On Drinking Alone by Moonlight. ” Li-tao-po, a.d. 720. 


392 The Breath of the Dragon 


The song — the most fanciful drinking song poet 
ever wrote — was greeted with loud applause. 
Kuang Hsu waved his hand merrily, and stepping 
swiftly from the room entered his cart. S’ang 
whipped up the mule and drove rapidly through 
the city gates out on to the open country roads. \ 

When they came to the little village of Yang-lin, 
they found the streets practically deserted. A few 
old women and decrepit men were talking excitedly 
to one another across the thresholds of their homes. 
When the cart passed them, they shouted to 
S’ang, “The beggars are raiding Li Lien Ying’s 
house. ” 

They tried to impart in their tones a sense of 
horror as of a sacrilege committed, yet could not 
keep the pleasure they felt from their voices. 
They heard a low amused laugh issue from the 
interior of the cart and, casting discretion to the 
winds, their merriment became unconstrained. 

But S’ang was frightened. He had forgotten 
that the Chief Eunuch’s villa skirted Yang-lin. 
He had only thought to bring the young Emperor 
to hear Pu-lun, because the simple, venerable 
“little assistant of Jesus” had a power, an elo- 
quence, which he, S’ang, was far from possessing. 

“Is Li here?” he asked, bringing the mule to an 
abrupt halt. 

“No. He comes every sixth evening, and it 
lacks three days of the time. I would give two 
strings of cash — if I had them — to see his face 
when he enters his house. I wager the beggars 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 393 


will strip it bare — they won’t leave anything!” 
cackled an old dame. 

“You’ve lost!” came Kuang Hsu’s voice gaily 
from behind the curtains. “They’ll leave plenty 
of — vermin ! ” 

The old men and women laughed again delight- 
edly. 

“There’s a wag-tail for you!” they cried, and 
hobbled into the street to have a look at the lively 
occupant of the cart. But S’ang drove hastily 
away. 

A few minutes later, sovereign and servant 
disappeared in the house of Pu-lun the plaiter of 
mats, the “little assistant of Jesus.” 

It may have been a half-hour afterwards that the 
villagers, rendered swift-footed with fear, ran 
down the highroad to the shelter of their homes, 
and the beggar army retreated Peking-ward. 
And it was an hour later that Fen-Sha, with 
A-lu-te in his arms, stood before Pu-lun’s house 
while Follingsbee rapped loudly upon the door. 
Because no one admitted them, Follingsbee de- 
liberately raised the latch to enter unbidden. The 
door was barred from within. Again he knocked 
peremptorily and again without avail. He stepped 
back to glance up at the sign and assure himself 
that they had not mistaken the house. It was 
this strange sign which had attracted their at- 
tention upon first entering the village with the 
beggars, and it was this sign which had induced 
them to seek here the help they hoped to obtain 


394 The Breath of the Dragon 


for A-lu-te. Having convinced himself that he 
was not mistaken in the place, Follingsbee called 
boldly, “Open in the name of Jesus.” 

This brought a response. A venerable-looking 
old man opened the door, carefully closing it 
behind him. 

“You have summoned me in the Master’s 
name. I have come. What do you desire of me ?” 

“Your help.” It was Fen-Sha who answered. 
“The youth here is exhausted. Take us in and 
help us to restore him. He needs food, drink, 
and rest.” 

“I cannot take you in, but I will give you what 
food I have. You can eat and rest on the road- 
side.” 

“Rest on the roadside!” said Fen-Sha angrily. 
“Old man, your hospitality to strangers is indeed 
munificent.” 

“You know the law when a stranger dies in a 
man’s house,” the old man reminded him de- 
precatingly. 

“Yes — he is arrested — but the youth will not 
die if he is allowed to repose in peace and is given 
to eat and drink, ” pleaded Fen-Sha. 

But the old man shook his head. “I cannot 
open my door to you. Let that suffice.” 

There was finality in his tone. Realizing the 
futility of threats or arguments Fen-Sha turned 
away despondingly, but Follingsbee detained him. 

“Wait,” he whispered, and turning to the old 
man said with meaning emphasis: “It is written, 


In the Hut of a “ Devil’s Pupil 395 

‘For with the same measure that ye mete withal it 
shall be measured to you again.’” 

Pu-lun, for it was he, bent a glad inquiring 
look on Follingsbee. “You have read the Book? 
You are of the Faith?” 

“I was born into it,” he replied, “and my 
father and mother before me.” 

“Your blessings have indeed been great. Wait 
here. I will return to admit you.” And Pu-lun 
slipped back into the house, closing the door 
with the same caution as before. 

From the window of a neighbouring house, a 
sharp-visaged village pawnbroker listened to the 
conversation and scrutinized with quick compre- 
hension the face of the still unconscious A-lu-te. 
It occurred to him that here was a method of 
diverting Cobbler’s Wax Li’s wrath from the 
inhabitants of Yang-lin, when he discovered 
what part they had played in the beggars’ raid 
upon his villa. No sooner had Pu-lun admitted 
the three strangers, than the pawnbroker, with a 
crafty smile of satisfaction, left his own house and 
hastened toward Li Lien Ying’s villa. 

In the meanwhile Fen-Sha and Follingsbee 
found themselves in a small, miserably furnished 
room, yet clean beyond the customary appearance 
of so poor an abode. 

“Lay the youth on the K’ang. I have brought 
fresh, cool water to moisten his face, ” said the old 
man. 

When A-lu-te regained consciousness she saw 


396 The Breath of the Dragon 


Fen-Sha bending anxiously over her. She gazed 
in wonder and could not believe it was really he. 
But when he dipped a cloth in the bowl of water 
he was holding and passed it over her forehead, she 
sighed happily as one who wakens to find herself 
in Paradise. “It is you!” 

“A-lu-te!” and he gazed on her as if his eyes 
would not willingly leave her face again. Then 
the basin slipped from his hands and he dropped 
on his knees beside her. 

A-lu-te raised herself on her elbow; she gently 
touched his bowed head. ‘ ‘ I prayed that I might 
see you again, and now you have come, ” she 
whispered with a kind of rapt wonder in her voice. 

“Yes, I have come, my A-lu-te.” 

Follingsbee stood silently near, but Pu-lun 
exclaimed, “The youth is a woman!” 

They did not heed him. A-lu-te spoke again: 

“I am sick, Fen-Sha. The thread of my life 
will soon be broken, but I die happy knowing you 
are safe.” Her voice trailed off weakly, then 
suddenly grew strong for she called loudly, 
“S’ang!” 

Fen-Sha thought her mind was wondering; he 
clasped her closer to him. 

Again A-lu-te called, “S’ang!” and raising 
herself from the encircling arms of her lover, she 
said, “You were right. The God of the foreigner, 
the God of the Christian is all powerful, all merci- 
ful. I die believing and I die thanking Him.” 

Her pale face became as marble in its whiteness, 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 397 


her eyes, which had been fixed straight before 
her, closed, her head sank on Fen-Sha’s shoulder. 
She lay motionless as one who has ceased to 
breathe, who yields to death content to die in 
her lover’s arms. 

The pain in the heart of Fen-Sha was as the 
thrust of a two-edged sword. 

“She is dead!” he said, and laid her gently back 
upon the K’ang. \ 

Pu-lun had thrown a frightened glance at 
the door of the adjoining room when A-lu-te 
called out; he drew a sigh of relief on seeing it 
quickly close again. He now bent over A-lu-te, 
placing his ear close to her mouth. “She lives,” 
he announced, straightening himself again. From 
a mat-covered box he took a bottle containing 
a yellowish fluid. Gently forcing A-lu-te’s lips 
apart he poured a few drops of the liquid down her 
throat. He repeated this operation several times 
while Fen-Sha watched with suspense for signs of 
returning consciousness. When the dark eyes 
opened and smiled up at him, he sobbed with joy. 

Follingsbee alone was not wholly absorbed in the 
scene. For some time he had become aware of 
vague, confused sounds in the distance. 

He listened intently. The sounds grew moment- 
arily louder, clearer; he could hear voices and the 
dull tramping of felt-soled shoes on the highroad. 

He opened the door and threw a swift glance in 
the direction of Li’s villa. Then he closed and 
barred the door. 


398 The Breath of the Dragon 

Fen-Sha remained kneeling by the K’ang, 
clasping A-lu-te’s hand. 

“A word with you,” said Follingsbee, touching 
Pu-lun on the shoulder. “Does that other door 
open on the rear of the house?” 

“The house has but one entrance,” replied 
the old man quickly. 

“Has the room in there a window looking onto 
the back?” 

“No,” came again the quick reply. 

But Follingsbee determined to see for himself 
and stepped toward the door. Pu-lun seized his 
arm. “It is but a closet — small, windowless, 
except for a narrow aperture admitting light. 
If you wish to leave my house, why do you not 
go as you entered — by the entrance door?” 

“ Because it is too late. Hark!” 

The noise had increased without. 

The old man listened unmoved. “The beggars 
are in the village — they came early this morning. 
My miserable house will not be molested — they 
know that I and my friends have nothing worth 
the taking.” 

“The beggars have gone. It is the Chief 
Eunuch and his attendants that you hear.” 

Still the old man remained unconcerned. “If 
it is the Chief Eunuch — which I doubt, for it 
lacks three days of the usual time of his coming — 
he is on the way to his villa and the people are 
greeting him.” 

“He is leaving — not going to his villa — nor are 


In the Hut of a “ Devil’s Pupil ” 399 


the people greeting him. They are conducting 
him to your house,” returned Follingsbee. 

The old man’s agitation became suddenly 
extreme. “Conducting him to my house! The 
Chief Eunuch coming here!” he cried. And 
raising his voice, he repeated again louder, “The 
Chief Eunuch coming here!” 

The door of the adjoining room opened; a young 
man appeared on the threshold. His delicate 
patrician face seemed to command instant respect. 
Follingsbee had advanced threateningly when he 
first saw him, then involuntarily stood still. 
But when he detected a second face, with thin, 
womanish features, peering out from the back- 
ground, he demanded, “What are you doing 
here?” 

“So you are Fen-Sha?” said the young man, 
ignoring the question. His voice was in keeping 
with his face ; it was indicative of birth and culture. 

Hearing his name, Fen-Sha jumped to his feet 
and turned to see ’who had spoken, but Follingsbee 
replied, “I am not Fen-Sha, nor have you answered 
me. What are you doing here?” 

An amused look came into the handsome face. 
“Well, I am glad you are not he. Your speech 
and your enunciation are atrociously bad.” 

With a quick step he approached the K’ang and 
glanced with lively interest at A-lu-te. He nodded 
reassuringly to her when she opened her eyes and 
looked up at him and indicated his desire that she 
should not attempt to rise. Then he bent his 


400 The Breath of the Dragon 


keen intelligent gaze upon Fen-Sha. The two 
men looked at each other a moment in silence. 

“It seems,” said Kuang Hsu, “that she has 
succeeded after all. I hope you are worth the 
dangers she encountered and those she must 
still encounter.” 

“Who are you?” stammered Fen-Sha. 

“I? Oh, I am only the Emperor.” The smile 
in Kuang Hsu’s large dark eyes was reflected in 
his voice. 

“The Emperor!” exclaimed Fen-Sha and 
dropped upon his knees. 

Notwithstanding his amazement, Follingsbee 
did not doubt the extraordinary assertion of this 
strange young man. He turned to see that 
Pu-lun also was kneeling. 

“Your Majesty,” said the old man, “your ser- 
vant entreats you to retire again — the Chief 
Eunuch is on his way here.” 

“So you have said before. Well, then, let him 
come, — as indeed he seems to be doing with 
considerable noise, ” remarked the Emperor coolly. 

S’ang now stepped from the inner room; he 
too pleaded with the Emperor not to let the Chief 
Eunuch find him there. 

“We implore your Majesty to await in the inner 
room Li Lien Ying’s departure. He will not look 
farther when he finds those he is seeking here.” 
And S’ang pointed to A-lu-te lying on the K’ang. 
What more fitting than that she should be sacri- 
ficed, if by so doing the Emperor were spared the 


In the Hut of a “ Devil’s Pupil ” 401 


evil machinations of the powerful Chief Eunuch! 
S’ang, himself, would willingly have given his own 
life for such a purpose. Would an imperial 
concubine do less? 

Apparently A-lu-te was of the same opinion, 
for, in a feeble voice, she joined her entreaties to 
those of the eunuch. 

Fen-Sha was still prostrate and said not a word. 

Kuang Hsu looked from one to the other. 
'‘It is my will to remain and meet the Chief 
Eunuch here, ” he said. “No — not a word. ” 

He turned to A-lu-te. “Relate rapidly all that 
has occurred.” 

In a low voice, stopping every now and again to 
get breath in her sick body, A-lu-te told him. 

He did not interrupt her narrative. When she 
spoke of Tsing’s memorial and the Empress 
Dowager’s decision to await its arrival in the 
Palace before she decided upon her punishment, 
he listened with a certain strained attention which 
yet gave the impression that he was pursuing a 
train of thought of his own. And when A-lu-te 
expressed her conviction that the Chief Eunuch 
had deliberately permitted her to escape in order 
to seize her outside the Palace walls and contrive 
her death without the Empress Dowager’s know- 
ledge, Kuang Hsu nodded comprehendingly. She 
told him of her capture in the Inn of Peace and 
Security and of being bound and thrown into 
a dark, slimy grotto in the garden of Li’s villa. 

“It was well planned,” murmured the Emperor 

a6 


402 The Breath of the Dragon 


to himself, “also Li’s fear must have been great. 
Does he know with certainty that which I now 
suspect? How can I find out?” 

A thought came into his mind, a thought 
which grew with increasing rapidity, till, sud- 
denly, it became a full-formed plan, and one which 
seemed to offer him much entertainment, for he 
smiled repeatedly. When A-lu-te concluded her 
pathetic tale, he said : 

“Rise all of you, and you, Fen-Sha, listen to 
my words. “I will protect this lady from Li Lien 
Ying on one condition ; refuse that condition and 
I, myself, will return her to the Summer Palace 
to the safe keeping of her Majesty, the Empress 
Dowager.” 

“The safe-keeping of the Empress Dowager,” 
replied Fen-Sha bitterly, “is another mode of 
saying — the jaws of death.” 

The Emperor shook his head. “I do not think 
so, ” he said quietly, “but in any case my purpose 
is clear to you. Decide.” 

“The condition, your Majesty?” asked Fen- 
Sha and even as he spoke he moved nearer the 
K’ang. There was refusal in his attitude, a 
determination to defend A-lu-te with his last 
breath spoke from every muscle in his tense 
body. 

The Emperor frowned. “You refuse already 
and without waiting to hear what you refuse. 
You are devoid of reason; your firmness is only the 
dogged stupidity of a man who trusts no one but 


In the Hut of a “ Devil’s Pupil ” 403 


himself. Such a one is better under the ground 
than on top of it, for he invites calamities, not 
only upon himself but upon his family and his 
friends. The wise man trusts everyone until 
he has cause not to. In this way he maintains 
the dignity, the honour, of his race and serves 
Heaven and his fellow-beings.” 

A flush spread over Fen-Sha’s face. 

“Your Majesty, tell me the condition, and do 
not, I entreat you, forget in the telling that this 
maiden risked her life for me.” 

“You are to go in yonder inner room and take 
with you that uncouth-tongued fellow over 
there” — pointing to Follingsbee. “You are to 
keep the door, as well as your ears, tight shut, 
until I send for you.” 

Still Fen-Sha hesitated. He felt A-lu-te’s soft 
hand closing over his, and her voice beseeching 
him: “Go, Fen-Sha; trust his Majesty as I, your 
betrothed, have already trusted him.” 

“I go then,” replied Fen-Sha, pressing her little 
hand once to his forehead. He turned and 
walked slowly into the inner room, beckoning 
Follingsbee to follow. 

“S’ang,” said the Emperor, “go with him. 
See to it that their ears are kept tight shut.” 

The eunuch flung himself on his knees. “Let 
your slave remain with your Gracious Majesty, 
for you may need his services.” 

It was plain that S’ang was afraid to leave the 
Emperor alone with the Chief Eunuch. 


404 The Breath of the Dragon 


“It is my wish,” returned the Emperor shortly 
— and added, kindly, “Have no fear for me. 
Moreover remember that if Li Lien Ying sees you 
here, he will find a quick method of for ever 
relieving me of your services. Go.” — 

The door had scarcely closed behind the eunuch, 
when the outer door was burst open and the dark, 
scowling face of the Chief Eunuch was framed in 
the worm-eaten wood of the threshold. 

Behind him stood his attendants and a crowd 
of villagers. 

The Emperor had seated himself on the K’ang 
upon which A-lu-te had again sunk, overcome by 
weakness. But Pu-lun had stationed himself im- 
mediately in front of his sovereign, and it was 
he, therefore, upon whom Li’s small baneful 
eyes rested. “Seize him, ” he rasped out. 

Two men rushed forward to obey the order. 

A kick landed one of them into the middle of 
the room, and an imperious voice said, “Put those 
dogs out and close the door. I would have speech 
with you.” 

At the sound of this voice, the Chief Eunuch’s 
face became pale; on his forehead beads of sweat 
broke out and trickled into his eyes. He brushed 
his hands across his brow as one in a daze. The 
men amazed at the haughty words of the young 
stranger, and the apprehensive appearance of the 
powerful eunuch, slunk from the room without 
waiting to be ejected and joined the curious 
crowd outside. 


In the Hut of a “ Devil’s Pupil ” 405 


But when the Chief Eunuch saw A-lu-te’s 
terror-stricken face, his equanimity was restored. 
His lips curled in a sneer. 

The Emperor spoke again haughtily. “You 
are forgetting the majesty of the Imperial 
Presence.” 

Very leisurely Li sank on his knees to make 
obeisance. 

“I crave your Majesty’s pardon; how could I be 
sure it was indeed the august presence in this vile 
hut? The Empress Dowager will scarcely believe 
the utterance of my tongue, when I inform her.” 

1 ‘ There are other matters of transcendent impor- 
tance she will find greater difficulty in believing, 
but the proofs which are here” — he touched his 
pocket — “will convince her. Your sands, Li, 
are running out,” said the Emperor menacingly. 

“Will your Majesty deign to explain? ” asked the 
Chief Eunuch, and he was astonished to feel again 
a sense of fear creeping over him. How came the 
puppet Emperor here and what knowledge had 
he of Tsing’s adopted daughter? 

“A thunderbolt sent from heaven stops not to 
explain when it strikes. Answer me — Why did 
you connive at the escape of this lady from the 
Summer Palace? ’ ’ 

The Chief Eunuch looked with malice upon 
A-lu-te and replied, “I did not.” 

“You lie. Why did you withhold from her 
Majesty, the Empress Dowager, the knowledge 
that Ho-Shu had seized the runaway in the Inn 


406 The Breath of the Dragon 


of Peace and Security and thrown her, by your 
order, in a vile grotto in the garden of your villa 
where she lay more dead than living until today ? ” 

The Chief Eunuch had regained his composure. 
His fears that the Emperor was in possession of 
the secret he had taken such precaution to insure, 
were allayed. He believed that Kuang Hsu’s 
interest in the affair was only that of a young 
man suddenly awakened to feminine charm. It 
was a danger the Old Buddha had foreseen if this 
girl were permitted to meet him. Also, the fact 
that the Emperor had slipped from the Forbidden 
City incognito and had entered the vile abode of 
a “ devil’s pupil” — for such he knew the old man 
Pu-lun to be, the villagers having so informed 
him, as well as the blatant sign on the fellow’s 
door — would so inflame the wrath of the Old 
Buddha against the puppet that his words would 
have no weight. As for the girl — well, he would 
now be compelled to return her to the Summer 
Palace, but the breath would be out of her body 
before she arrived. He would see to that himself. 

“Beyond a doubt your Majesty has been mis- 
informed by foul and lying tongues. It is true 
that Ho-Shu found the woman and brought her 
for safe-keeping to my villa, but Ho-Shu, on his 
way to the Palace, was basely killed by unknown 
assailants. His dead body lies now in my villa 
awaiting the burial his noble sacrifice to duty 
deserves. My house was broken into by a beggar 
horde and the woman escaped again — by whose 


In the Hut of a u Devil’s Pupil ” 407 

assistance, perhaps, your Majesty knows better 
than I.” 

There was venom in the last remark. The 
subtlety of his explanations left the young Emperor 
with a miserable sense of helplessness as against a 
foe too powerful, too crafty to be downed. But 
the expression on his handsome face remained 
unchanged. He possessed more than the usual 
oriental capacity for concealing his feelings. 

“I have another question awaiting your lying 
tongue — What have you done with Tsing’s 
memorial ?” 

The Chief Eunuch started violently ; he had not 
been prepared for this question. For an instant 
he could not speak. He regarded the Emperor in 
sudden horrible surmise. Kuang Hsu knew! 
He would use his knowledge to arouse the bitter 
anger of the Old Buddha against him. Twice 
within the last two days she had threatened him 
with banishment. It had required all his diplo- 
macy, all the wiles of his crafty tongue to appease 
her. If she now heard that he had suppressed 
Tsing’s memorial and was informed by the Emperor 
of its contents, nothing would save him from her 
wrath. Again the perspiration rolled on his cheeks. 

“I do not know what your Majesty means,” 
he managed to jerk out with a semblance of com- 
posure. But his consternation had not been lost 
upon young Kuang Hsu; he raised his hand to his 
mouth to conceal the smile of relief and satisfac- 
tion which twitched his lips. 


408 The Breath of the Dragon 


“You lie clumsily,” he said. “An end to this 
farce. Know then that I have in my possession 
the original draft of the memorial you suppressed. 
Tsing was a wise man in taking his precautions, 
for he sent this draft to a friend with instructions 
to forward it, after the lapse of a certain number of 
days, to me, his Sovereign Lord, with the statement 
that the memorial had already been presented to 
the Empress Dowager. It reached me in the Yel- 
low City this morning. Yesterday her Majesty 
was still anxiously awaiting the document, not 
knowing that the courier had brought it to the 
Summer Palace long since; that it got as far as your 
hands and no farther. What have you to say?” 

The Chief Eunuch stared sullenly before him. 
He reflected furiously that at last the hour of the 
puppet Emperor’s triumph had struck, and his 
own power in the Palace would, before the sun 
dropped in the horizon, be no stronger than autumn 
thistledown. It mattered not whether the girl 
lying motionless on the K’ang lived or died, 
either way, she had brought ruin upon him, for 
the Old Buddha would as soon tear her eyes from 
their sockets as forgive him this offence against 
the majesty of her authority, and the crime against 
the mother-love crying in her heart. All at once 
he remembered his treasure vault. It contained 
sufficient wealth to insure a life of luxury to the 
end of his days. Why then wait to be banished — 
or what was quite as likely, decapitated? He 
would hasten back to the villa, take his gold, and 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil ” 409 


leave the country. He would live in Japan 
surrounded by every comfort money could pur- 
chase. Perhaps, after a time, the Old Buddha 
would relent, and — but the puppet Emperor 
was speaking again — curse him and the girl too 
— what was he saying now? 

“It is apparent that you do not know what to 
say. I therefore will assist you. You will, 
without delay, inform the Lady A-lu-te of the 
contents of Tsing’s memorial. Omit the smallest 
detail and I will present the original draft in my 
possession this very day to the Empress Dowager 
and tonight your head will sleep in the western 
confines of the Palace grounds and your feet in its 
uttermost eastern limits. Proceed.” 

The look of a crouching wild beast gleamed from 
the eyes of the Chief Eunuch. Kuang Hsu saw 
that look and smiled mockingly. He was no 
longer afraid of Li. He was playing a game in 
which he knew his opponent would be checkmated 
in the next move. Here was one of the moments 
in his life when the Emperor was the Emperor and 
the servant was the servant. He waited with 
haughty leniency, though inwardly aflame, while 
he granted the Chief Eunuch time for thought. 

A-lu-te had gradually shifted her gaze from the 
Emperor, where she had sought and found courage, 
to the face of her enemy. With a chill which had 
in it something of foreknowledge she too waited 
for Li to speak, — a quivering expectant hush was 
in the little room. 


410 The Breath of the Dragon 

Finally, in a voice which he scarcely recognized 
as his own, a voice which, dull, low, lifeless, seemed 
to be reciting words from a printed page, the 
Chief Eunuch repeated Tsing’s memorial. 

Kuang Hsu strained forward not to lose a 
syllable of his speech. 

But A-lu-te slipped from the K’ang and stood 
with hands pressed to her bosom, lips apart, 
breathing quickly as one who has been running. 
Once the Emperor turned to look at her; he was 
startled by the play of emotion depicted on her 
face. 

A-lu-te understood at last why her heart had 
gone out to the Great Old Buddha, why she never 
could learn to hate her. Her mother! She broke 
into low sobbing. 

The Chief Eunuch ceased speaking. 

“You have heard, ” said the Emperor exultingly, 
addressing A-lu-te. “It now remains for you to 
decide.” And he asked almost pleadingly, “Will 
you return with me to the Summer Palace?” 

‘ * Return ? No ! no ! ” she answered vehemently, 
only to add quickly, “And yet — oh, I long to see 
her — to call her ‘Mother’ — to hear again her 
tender voice caressing me when she was pleased 
with me. Oh! Mother! Mother!” She fell to 
weeping violently. With an effort she controlled 
herself. “Is your Majesty convinced that she is 
indeed ignorant of my identity?” she asked. 

“ She does not know; yet the knowledge is in her 
heart. That she loves you, you yourself have 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 41 1 


felt, for even in your disgrace Li Lien Ying could 
not induce her to punish you. If you return 
and the contents of Tsing’s memorial are made 
known to her, your place in the Palace will be 
supreme. As for Li, if he is permitted to remain 
above ground, you may be sure it will not be in 
the Summer Palace or in Peking. In the great 
desert of Gobi are mean and wretched villages 
where such as he are sometimes given shelter for 
the remainder of their worthless lives.” 

While Kuang Hsu was speaking the Chief 
Eunuch listened, firmly resolved to carry out his 
hastily formed plan of escape without delay. 

He did not know that at that very moment 
the servants left in his villa, after locking the 
women in their apartments, had robbed his treasure 
vault and were riding on his mules and horses 
at breakneck speed away from Yang-lin. 

The Emperor’s next words caused him to relax 
suddenly and wait eagerly for A-lu-te’s decision. 

“Your choice,” continued the Emperor, “must 
be made here in this hut and, once made, it 
can never be altered. Reflect, therefore, carefully 
before you decide. Will you defy your hereditary 
element ; will you choose poverty, disgrace, banish- 
ment, or wealth, luxury, power, the love of a great 
Empress, and the certainty of the punishment of a 
contemptible enemy ? ’ ’ 

It may be that Kuang Hsu hoped her decision 
would give him at the court of his imperial aunt a 
valuable ally and friend — and Heaven knew he was 


412 The Breath of the Dragon 


sorely in need of one — or it may be he was frankly 
curious to test the strength of her affection for her 
lover, now that she knew herself to be a royal 
princess, a member of the imperial family. He 
added that if she elected to follow the fortunes of a 
disgraced man — he took care not to allude directly 
to Fen-Sha — then she must swear never to divulge 
to a living soul the secret of her birth. If she 
failed to keep her oath, she would be supplying the 
political friends of her adopted father with a 
weapon to bring disgrace not only/ upon her mother, 
the Empress Dowager, but upon the Manchu 
Dynasty. For such base conduct the curse of 
Heaven would descend upon her and her sons — 
if she bore any — and her sons’ sons — and also 
upon all her ancestors. 

As the Chief Eunuch listened, he realized that 
if she linked her fate with that of her lover — 
then he, Li Lien Ying, could with perfect security 
return to the Palace, and Kuang Hsu would be 
powerless to injure him, for he too would be impli- 
cated in the plot of withholding from the Old 
Buddha all knowledge of her daughter’s existence. 
The sickening physical sense of dread — entirely 
new in his experience of himself — which had 
assailed Li twice in this wretched hut, left him. 
Without knowing why, he was convinced what 
answer the girl would give. He felt safe and the 
puppet Emperor, he told himself, was even more 
of a fool than he had taken him to be, in that he 
failed to embrace the only opportunity he ever 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 413 


had, or ever would have again, to crush his 

enemy. 

“My choice is made,” said A-lu-te in a low 
firm voice. “I follow him who is in disgrace, 
who must live in banishment.” 

Something plucked at certain strings untouched 
heretofore at Kuang Hsu’s heart. He looked at 
her with young eyes which had never known 
happiness and a sigh, involuntary, unsuppressed, 
escaped from him. 

“You have decided, then. Now swear.” 

And A-lu-te swore to keep hidden for ever the 
secret of her birth. 

For once in his life, the Chief Eunuch forgot 
his malice, his thirst for revenge. He was indeed 
almost tempted to thank A-lu-te. He thought 
better of it however and waited silently until it 
should please the Emperor to address him. He 
had not long to wait. 

“Open the door and disperse the people. You 
are not to return, ” said Kuang Hsu. 

Now there was something the Chief Eunuch 
wished to make sure of before he left. 

As long as that draft of Tsing’s memorial 
remained in the Emperor’s possession he could not 
return to the Palace with any feeling of security. 
There was always the chance that at some future 
period Kuang Hsu would determine to ruin him 
by giving the document to the Empress Dowager. 
That draft, therefore, must be destroyed. 

“Your Majesty,” he spoke with impertinent 


414 The Breath of the Dragon 

composure, “ there is a little matter which you 
have forgotten. May your servant remind you 
of it?” 

“ Speak,” said the Emperor, frowning. 

T “ That draft of Tsing’s memorial — your Majesty 
has not destroyed it.” 

The frown in Kuang Hsu's face disappeared. 
He raised his eyebrows and smiled as if amused 
by a sudden thought. 

“Ah, to be sure — I had forgotten it. But no 
matter — it is not my intention to destroy the 
draft.” 

“Your Majesty had best reconsider,” warned the 
Chief Eunuch, and added slowly, that his words 
might sink in, “If it is not destroyed here, now, 
it will be the duty of your servant to inform the 
Great Old Buddha of all that has transpired in 
this place this morning.” 

A-lu-te uttered a faint cry, but Kuang Hsu only 
continued to smile amusedly. “You are then, it 
seems, determined to risk losing your head after 
all,” he commented pleasantly. 

Li glared at him with a look of concentrated 
hate. “The risk is great, no doubt,” he replied, 
“but what of that? If I tell, there are others 
here also who will be as a lighted candle between 
open doors. If I keep silent and Tsing's draft is 
not destroyed what assurance have I that it will 
not be used some day against me?” 

The Emperor laughed softly. 1 1 Ah ! So ! Blows 
the wind from that quarter? Well, compose 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil ” 415 

yourself, your fears are groundless.” He laughed 
again. 

Li scowled. He did not like this ebullition of 
gaiety, the reason for which he failed to compre- 
hend. 

“Shall I tell you why, Li?” the Emperor asked 
suddenly. 

Something in his manner and mocking speech 
made the Chief Eunuch ponder uneasily. 

“Why, then?” he enquired. There was less 
assurance in his voice than before. 

“Because,” returned the Emperor gaily, “be- 
cause I have received no draft, because, as far as 
I know, Tsing did not write or send a draft, because 
my knowledge of his memorial addressed to the 
Empress Dowager dates from this hour, and my 
knowledge of its contents comes from your own 
lips.” 

The Chief Eunuch stared at him dumb with 
anger. His lips twitched; his writhing face grew 
deathly pale. Clearly the Emperor had spoken 
the truth and he, Li Lien Ying, had played into 
his hands like any fool! He ground his teeth. 
Then his rage gave place to a sense of terror, and 
amazement that this young man for whose 
capabilities — except as a scholar — he had enter- 
tained the liveliest contempt should not only 
have outwitted him but forced him, by his own 
words, to betray himself. He was no longer the 
puppet to be scorned; he was an enemy to be 
feared. 


4 i 6 The Breath of the Dragon 


But the humour of the situation had endured 
long enough for Kuang Hsu. 

“Open the door,” he commanded, “and dis- 
perse the people outside. You are not to 
return.” 

Mechanically the Chief Eunuch obeyed. The 
next minute his shrill harsh voice could be heard 
ordering the men to return to their work and the 
women to their household duties. 

Inside the hut, Pu-lun, obeying an imperative 
signal from the Emperor, summoned Fen-Sha 
from the inner room. Addressing himself to the 
young reformer, Kuang Hsu said, “It is my 
desire that you leave the Empire without delay. 
You are to go to Kobe and to return only at such 
a time as I shall indicate in the future. You will 
have a companion in exile whose character is full 
of gentleness, love, and loyalty to her duty. You 
will therefore never give her cause to regret going 
with you. You will live with her in perfect har- 
mony nor by word or deed sadden her heart. 
You have heard her say she is a believer in the 
God of the Western World, the God of the for- 
eigner. Pu-lun is a priest of that faith. He will 
perform the ceremony of marriage between you 
here in my presence.” 

At these words, Fen-Sha threw himself with 
vehemence at the feet of the Emperor. “Your 
Majesty has given his servant not life alone, but 
happiness. May Heaven grant your Majesty 
length of days and may your fame grow till it 


In the Hut of a “Devil’s Pupil” 417 


illumines every dark place in this land our ances- 
tors have taught us to love.” 

A-lu-te had prostrated herself beside Fen-Sha 
while she too thanked the Emperor by repeatedly 
knocking her head on the floor. 

Kuang Hsu beckoned the venerable “ little 
assistant to Jesus. ” 

“Proceed,” he ordered curtly. 

The old man approached holding in his hand a 
gourd filled with water. He sprinkled a few 
drops upon the bowed head of A-lu-te. “I bap- 
tize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, 
and the Spirit, Amen.” 

Turning to Fen-Sha he said solemnly, “Son, will 
you also become a follower of Christ?” 

Fen-Sha replied : “ He is a God of Mercy and of 

Justice. Baptize me into the Faith.” 

Pu-lun baptized him; having done so he joined 
the hands of Fen-Sha and A-lu-te and, reading the 
marriage ceremony, pronounced them man and 
wife. 

All the while Kuang Hsu sat with an inscrutable 
expression upon his clear-cut handsome face. 

When the young married pair turned to him 
again with shining grateful eyes, he drew from 
his belt a well-filled purse and placing it on the 
K’ang, said, “The bride must not come to her 
husband empty-handed. She is without the cus- 
tomary presents — the contents of this purse will 
serve to purchase them.” 

He called S’ang — who, with Follingsbee, had 


. *7 . 


4i 8 The Breath of the Dragon 


been a delighted spectator to this scene. “ Come, ” 
he said, “it is time.” With a graceful wave of his 
hand and without another word he left the hut. 
A few minutes later a blue-topped cart was driven 
rapidly out of the village of Yang-lin. 


CHAPTER XXVII 

BECAUSE OF LLA THE BACTRIAN CAMEL 

Long after dark that same day, a shabby 
country cart, drawn by a mule well past his prime, 
was moving along the highway toward Peking. 

In the cart reclining on soft cushions was A-lu-te. 
She was clad in clean garments procured for her in 
the village by Pu-lun. She was smiling happily, 
her eyes seeking ever those of Fen-Sha who walked 
close beside the cart. 

Follingsbee strode at the head of the mule to 
guide and urge him onward. The road was 
empty. The country-folk who took their products 
to the city were still asleep. Fen-Sha and A-lu-te 
conversed together in low tones. The dreadful 
past lay behind them; the future held forth pro- 
mises of a new life of blissful happiness. 

Once, and once only, A-lu-te after a long, sweet 
silence sighed sadly. 

“What is it, my A-lu-te ?” asked Fen-Sha anx- 
iously. She was still weak and he feared for her. 

“It is nothing, beloved. My thoughts wandered 
for a moment from you and carried me back to the 
Summer Palace and the Empress Dowager.” 

419 


420 The Breath of the Dragon 


“My Lotus Bud, forget those terrible days and 
with them that sinful old woman.” 

A-lu-te placed her little hand on his arm and 
said in a quivering voice: “Fen-Sha, you are the 
heart of my heart, the best beloved in the world 
to me. For your sake I am ever ready to give my 
life. Knowing this will you make me one small 
promise?” 

Pressing her slender hand to his breast, he 
answered, “I promise, my A-lu-te. Tell me what 
you would have me do?” 

“ Only this,” her tones trembled with suppressed 
emotion: “never again, my beloved, never again 
speak of the Empress Dowager except with rever- 
ence and kindliness. You will promise your 
A-lu-te this?” 

Astonishment seized him at a request which to 
him was strange beyond comprehension. But he 
attributed it to the fevered fancy of one weakened 
by past suffering. He soothed her with gentle 
words, promising all she asked. Then, still 
holding each other’s hands, they began to dream 
of the future. 

Dawn was breaking when they approached 
Peking. It was the plan of Fen-Sha to conceal 
A-lu-te in the house of her old amah while he 
made needful arrangements for their journey to 
Tientsin where they would board a steamer for 
Japan. 

While they waited for the huge city gates to 
swing back on their iron hinges and admit again 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 421 

the outer world to the capital of the Celestial 
Empire, A-lu-te summoned Follingsbee to her 
side. 

She greeted him with a manner so gracious 
and winning and again thanked him with so much 
proud humility for all he had done for Fen-Sha 
and herself, that he could only marvel at the charm 
of her. 

Follingsbee did not enter the city with his 
companions. 

“I have an errand in a village, ” he said as the 
gates swung wide. 

“ An errand?” puzzled Fen-Sha. 

But Follingsbee offered no explanations, and 
evinced such keen impatience to be off, Fen-Sha 
did not seek to detain him. It was only later in 
the day when, leaving A-lu-te in the humble 
home of her old amah — who hovered delightedly 
about her, — he had set out to procure a boat for 
their river journey, that it suddenly came to 
him what this errand was, upon which Follingsbee 
had gone. 

“The Bactrian camel!” he ejaculated. 

The thought disturbed him. Would Follingsbee 
risk the danger of returning to Peking on a white 
camel of the breed the gate guards were warned 
to seize together with its rider? He did not 
doubt it. Something of the animal’s story Follings- 
bee had related to him the night they waited in 
his rooms before joining the beggars in their 
descent upon Yang-lin. 


422 The Breath of the Dragon 


Fen-Sha knew the American would keep his 
word to the Mongol owner of the white Bactrian 
camel. Slowly he retraced his steps to the old 
amah's house. He and A-lu-te must remain 
in Peking until he was assured of his friend’s safe 
return. 

Follingsbee in the meanwhile was seeking the 
village where Lla, the camel, had been left. In 
the exciting events following their arrival in the 
capital with the son of the Beggar King, the name 
of the place had gone from him and he had to 
travel from one village to another until he finally 
came upon it. The headman kept his word; the 
camel was turned over to Follingsbee on the 
presentation of the visiting card. News did not 
reach the large inland towns with any degree of 
rapidity, and far less the small villages scattered 
over the great Pechili plain. So it happened 
that the reward offered by the Peking authorities 
for the arrest of any man riding a white Bactrian 
racing camel was still unknown to the country 
folk of this district. Before leaving the village, 
Follingsbee purchased for a few copper cash a pot 
of black paint and provided himself, for an equally 
small sum, with an earthenware receptacle, some 
oil, a large brush, and a sack of salt. These pur- 
chases made, he fastened them securely to the 
saddle of the camel, mounted the beast, and rode 
leisurely off. 

On the banks of a small sluggish stream, bordered 
with tall grass and well away from all habitations, 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 423 

he alighted and alone in the solitude began to 
occupy himself in a curious manner. 

He mixed the paint in the earthenware receptacle 
with the oil and stirred the contents vigorously. 
When the consistency of this black liquid compound 
suited him, he seized the sack of salt and, first 
cautiously [scrutinizing the landscape in every 
direction to assure himself that he was alone and 
unobserved, he approached the camel, comfortably 
browsing on the succulent grass. 

“Sok!” “Sok!” he cried, and at the word the 
huge ugly creature knelt obediently, though with a 
vicious look showing in the corners of her eyes. 

Follingsbee opened the salt sack and powdered 
its contents on the ground. The camel set to 
licking up the salt with manifest relish. Fol- 
lingsbee seized the br^sh, dipped it in the liquid 
paint he had crudely prepared, and applied the 
first splashy stroke to the camel’s dirty white 
body. He was interrupted in this picturesque 
occupation by the brute herself who rose up with 
mouth savagely opened as if intent upon biting 
the artist and changing her mind dashed madly 
off over the plain. 

The immediate result of this unexpected flight 
was to leave Follingsbee staring stupidly. 

To pursue the camel with any expectation of 
catching her was too hopeless to be worth con- 
templating. He watched her until she disappeared 
behind a hillock in the distance. 

“Damn,” said Follingsbee, then broke into a 


424 The Breath of the Dragon 


laugh. He reflected philosophically that since 
he had lost the camel, he might as well retain what 
was left to him, namely his temper. 

He threw himself on the ground beside his 
carefully prepared paint-pot and being fatigued 
soon fell fast asleep. The air grew cold as twilight 
fell and the night advanced. Cramped and 
chilled Follingsbee wakened to find the moon 
high in the heavens and brightly shining. Very 
distinctly he heard a low deep bubbling sound. 
He turned his head to see Lla with her neck 
stretched out and legs curled under her, resembling 
in the vague light of the moon a prehistoric 
monster. She had returned to finish her feast of 
salt. 

As rapidly as was consistent with cautious 
movement Follingsbee crept towards her and 
seized the rope attached to her neck. Lla turned 
and watched him suspiciously. He tied her neck 
and forelegs securely together and having done so 
he lost no time in again applying the black paint 
to her body. For a while the camel struggled 
frantically to release her fastenings, then with 
true oriental submission to fate, became passive 
and fell to licking up the salt again. 

In the course of a couple of hours the task which 
Follingsbee had set himself was completed and 
Lla’s coat was transformed from a dirty white to a 
deep smutty black. Follingsbee stepped back 
and surveyed his work with satisfaction. He now 
gathered some brushwood and made a fire near 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 425 

which he stretched himself and once more slept. 
Soon after dawn broke he was up. To his delight 
he found the compost on Lla’s shaggy coat quite 
dry. He untied the ropes which fastened her, 
seated himself in the saddle, and set out for Peking 
where he arrived a few minutes before the opening 
of the gates. A caravan from the north was 
waiting for admittance into the capital and 
country people with farm products in baskets 
slung on long poles across their shoulders, or in 
panniers on the backs of donkeys, and in wheel- 
barrows, crowded the highroad. 

The black camel and her rider attracted no 
attention. Everyone was engrossed in a more 
interesting spectacle. Three wicker cages were 
being suspended from the wall ; in each cage was a 
head, one of them hideous beyond conception. 
Follingsbee looked at this head, and as he looked, 
the short, matted hair, the repulsive features, 
the deep, sunken sockets resembling dark, crater- 
like pits, suddenly grew horribly familiar. Where 
had he seen that head before it was severed from 
its trunk? Ah! now he remembered; it was the 
Beggar King! Upon him at least the Chief 
Eunuch had had his full and prompt revenge. 

The gates opened and in the wake of the 
caravan Follingsbee entered the city, unchallenged 
by the guards, who did not cast a second glance 
at the big black camel he was riding. 

Before he passed through the gates he saluted 
the tr unkl ess head in the centre cage. However 


426 The Breath of the Dragon 


vile the Beggar King might have been in life, he 
had at least not failed in two things worthy of 
respect: He had repaid a debt of gratitude and 
had loyally kept a promise. 

Follingsbee made his way to the Mongol market. 

At certain seasons of the year this market has 
the greatest commercial activity of any place in the 
capital. Here are unloaded the large caravans, 
which arrive from the most distant part of the 
Empire. The uproar and confusion at this time 
is indescribable. The shrieking of the camels 
mingles with the bawling of the buyers and sellers ; 
man and beast seem to vie with each other to 
make the loudest noise. 

Flat-faced Mongols with scanty beards, promi- 
nent cheek bones, and tint of saffron display their 
wares with rollicking good nature. The great 
leathern boots and large sheepskin coats give 
them a ponderous look in strong contrast to the 
agility displayed by the Chinese merchants of 
petty shops, threading their way through the 
crowded market appraising with cunning eye the 
exact value of every Mongol's wares the better to 
cheat him later. These were the sharks of the 
trade; for merchants of large and reputed business 
establishments were not given to dishonest 
trickery. 

Huge rolls of handsome furs were spread out on 
the ground, conical piles of salt, mushrooms so 
enormous they resembled the tops of large round 
teapoys. Here and there were handsome brass 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 427 

samovars received in trade from some travelling 
Russian pedlars in the northern country. But 
by far the greatest display was made with the 
sheep, oxen, mules, horses, and camels offered for 
sale. 

The Mongol market was especially noted for its 
trade in camels. These animals were ranged in 
rows, their forefeet raised in slight dirt elevations 
to accentuate their height; or they were kneeling 
to be heavily loaded and then made to rise to 
display their prodigious strength. 

Among those who were examining the camels 
was our Mongol friend, the owner of Lla. 

His face was puckered and anxious looking. He 
had long since bitterly repented having permitted 
a wayfaring stranger to ride off on his favourite 
animal in order to prove her fleetness and to win a 
wager. He was not only more than skeptical 
concerning the integrity of this stranger, but his 
own life had been made miserable by threats of 
the Bannerman to arrest him if at the end of the 
week the rider of the white Bactrian camel did 
not turn up at the Hotel of the Five Felicities, 
where the Bannerman daily lay in wait for him. 

The last day but one had arrived and the Mon- 
gol’s fear of arrest had augmented to such a degree 
that he determined to wait no longer for the possi- 
ble return of the beast, but, instead, to purchase a 
good camel in the market, slip from the capital that 
very day, and return to the peaceful land of grass 
without delay. As he had had this step in con- 


428 The Breath of the Dragon 


templation for some time, he had already quietly 
despatched his boy servant with the animals and 
the tents to the village of Ta Lou lying on the 
route to the Great Wall and instructed him to 
await there his arrival. 

He was now examining attentively the camels 
for sale in the market. He lingered before one 
animal whose size and strength seemed suitable 
for his purpose. Its owner, a Tibetan, watched 
the inspection with indifference. 

It was precisely at this moment that the little 
Mongol saw a big black camel led by a man who 
was peering to the right and left, carefully scan- 
ning the faces of those about him. The Mongol 
rubbed his eyes and looked again. The size, 
the shape, the awkward gait of the camel were 
those of his beloved Lla, but the colour was not 
her colour. Lla was a beautiful white, he told 
himself, and this beast was a hideous black. Then 
his eyes fell on the man leading the camel. He 
gave a loud shout and, springing forward, seized 
the rope from his hand. 

“Ah! I have caught you at last, Sir Stranger! 
What devil’s deed have you done to my beloved 
Lla that now she is black where formerly she was 
pearl white? Ah! I would my lips had grown 
shrivelled and sore and my tongue cracked and 
dry before I trusted you with my Lla!” 

In his excitement he forgot everything but the 
return of his cherished camel and the black insult 
staring at him from her shaggy coat. 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 429 

Follingsbee answered in low tones. “Not so 
loud! Not so loud! I returned with what speed I 
could, my Brother. I was even now on my way to 
the Hotel of the Five Felicities. As for the colour, 
’twas necessary — I cannot explain — but a white 
camel would not have been permitted to pass the 
city gates.” 

The little Mongol suddenly remembered the 
Banner man and the five hundred taels reward 
offered for the capture of the rider of his white 
racing camel. He glanced fearfully about; he 
hoped no one had heard his angry accusations. 
But already the men in their vicinity were crowd- 
ing around them to examine the camel. They were 
not long in detecting her spurious colouring. 

“Yes! Yes!” they shouted, “the beast has 
been dyed! There can be no doubt about it!” 

“Behold!” cried one, “here is the proof!” 
And dipping his hand in a vessel containing water 
he rubbed his wet palm along the camel’s side and 
leg, then triumphantly held the blackened hand 
up for inspection. 

The others were delighted with the simplicity of 
this demonstration; they too moistened their 
hands and, vigorously rubbing the animal, ob- 
tained the same results. This damning evidence 
produced a profound sensation. A score of men 
fell upon Follingsbee, while others seized the rope 
the Mongol was clutching. 

“We have read the placards!” they shouted. 
“This is the camel wanted by the authorities and 


430 The Breath of the Dragon 


this is the man who rode it. Let him not escape; 
secure him well ! The five hundred taels’ reward 
is ours!” 

In their determination to have a share in 
Follingsbee’s capture and therefore in the offered 
reward, they came near to tearing him to pieces. 
Their shrill cries as they fought, madly plunging, 
panting for his possession, attracted others to 
the scene. A charcoal pedlar, with face so soiled 
from handling his commodity he might have been 
a blackamoor, harangued the fighters. “Imbe- 
ciles ! If you cease not your foolish fighting and 
kill him amongst you, how will you prove to the 
magistrates he is the man who rode the camel? 
Let him live that he may testify himself before 
the judges who know well how to make the boldest 
liar speak truth — for so only will we be sure of 
our reward.” 

“There is sense in what he says,” shouted the 
men who had been unable to get their clutch on 
Follingsbee. 

“If he convicts himself, ” continued the charcoal 
pedlar, “ — and a few hours kneeling on coiled 
chains will help his memory marvellously well — 
then the five hundred taels will be paid us. Not 
even the wiliest magistrate would dare trick us 
out of what is ours by Imperial Decree.” 

“He speaks with judgment, ” again shouted 
those in the rear. Even the men nearest their 
captive were impressed with the wisdom of the 
pedlar’s counsel. 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 431 

“Yes. Let him confess to the magistrates/' 
they cried. 

“ Quick then! Cover him well, lest the Banner- 
men yonder see him and claim for themselves our 
just reward!” cried a man. 

Someone threw an empty sack over Follings- 
bee’s head and tied it below his waist line. 

In the smothering dust of this covering he gasped 
and choked for breath and with his, teeth tried to 
tear an opening to reach the free air. 

A sharp prick, as of a knife, and a ripping 
sound came to him. Another moment and he 
drew cleaner breath. The rasping voice he had 
heard haranguing the mob about him said: “I 
stuck him — the pig — a little blood-letting will 
quiet him and make him easier to lead to 
market.” 

The men laughed, pleased with the jest. 

The same voice went on: “Dump him into 
my coal cart; we’ll drive him to the magistrates; 
’twill be the quicker way. I will sit on top of 
him ; one of you drive ; the others can follow afoot, 
though they must run fast to keep pace with us, 
for my animal is a marvel for speed ! He has passed 
his fifteenth year and lives high on two beans and 
a half a day.” 

The mob, rendered good humoured by the 
jokes of the pedlar, accepted his leadership and 
were prompt to obey. 

Follingsbee felt himself lifted bodily up and 
thrown into a charcoal cart. He could feel the 


43 2 


The Breath of the Dragon 


filled sacks under him and the jocose leader over 
him and hear his voice again directing : 

“Let the camel follow. So, — all quiet now and 
forward. I will hide the fellow's feet with these 
sacks lest some sharp eye catch sight of them 
and accuse me of stealing the Mongol's woman 
for wife." And he pointed to the fat little Mongol 
still clinging tenaciously to the rope about Lla’s 
neck. 

A roar of laughter followed this speech, for the 
women of “the Grass Country" with their un- 
bound feet were the butt of frequent and coarse 
jests among the Chinese, who admired extrava- 
gantly the “lily-formed" feet of their own women. 

The procession started. The pedlar watched 
the men running beside his cart and chanted 
derisively at them the refrain of labourers engaged 
in their work: 

“Ohe! Oha? Oho-ho. Ohe! Oha? Oho- 
ho." 

And while he sang he cut surreptitiously the 
cord binding Follingsbee in his sack. Then he 
skilfully shifted his seat from the back of his 
prisoner to a bag of charcoal close by. 

Follingsbee, feeling the man^s weight no longer 
holding him, began cautiously to extricate himself 
from his covering. He was rising, when a hand 
pressed him quickly down and the pedlar 
whispered in English: 

“Lie still — till I give the signal!" 

“Fen-Sha!" gasped Follingsbee. “Is it you?" 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 433 

“Yes. Hush! Don’t move on your life!” 
returned the pedlar. 

The cart rattled slowly on. Above them the 
cloudless sky was yellowing. The Bactrian camel 
sniffed the air uneasily ; she scented a storm. Only 
her Mongol owner noted her warning and scanned 
the heavens with sly satisfaction. 

Fen-Sha counted on sheer audacity in rescuing 
Follingsbee. 

Audacity is often an excellent steed, yet there 
are times when it outruns the proper pace of 
true success and, tripping, throws its purpose. 
And so it was now. 

While Fen-Sha waited for a favourable oppor- 
tunity of dashing from the cart with Follingsbee, 
he sought to entertain the men surrounding them 
with spicy gossip. Finally he said: “Have 
you heard of the great robbery?” 

1 1 Where ? ’ ’ they cried. 

“ In Cobbler’s Wax Li’s villa, near Yang-lin. The 
servantsof hishousehold robbed his treasure vault.” 

“Ho!” they shouted delightedly. “Cobbler’s 
Wax Li robbed! Tell us about it.” 

They crowded closer around the cart; some 
climbed up on the sides of the vehicle. The man 
who was driving turned in his seat the better to 
hear, forgetting to guide his horse. 

“ Get down ! Get down ! ” cried Fen-Sha, trying 
to push the men off. “You are impeding our 
progress. My animal cannot haul the lot of you, ” 
he warned them. 


434 


The Breath of the Dragon 


“We will descend after you have related the 
story of this robbery.” 

Realizing the futility of force, either physical 
or argumentative, Fen-Sha made the best of a 
situation which he inadvertently had rendered 
more dangerous than before. 

“ Very well, I will tell you the story , 99 he said. 

“How came you by it?” asked the driver, a 
big, surly fellow. 

“I heard it from the country folk, to be sure, 
and so could have you, had you been by the 
Western Gates early yesterday morning engaged 
in your noble and lucrative trade of gathering 
dung, instead of lazily snoring on a sack of the 
stuff in your mother-in-law’s house,” returned 
Fen-Sha coolly. 

The driver opened his mouth to retort angrily, 
but the others roared with laughter. 

Suddenly they ceased laughing to watch the 
driver, who was grimacing curiously and pointing 
at the floor of the cart. 

“The prisoner,” he shouted, “has his head out 
of the sack! Who untied him? Why, that base- 
mouthed fellow there! Seize him!” 

The expression of wonder and wavering on the 
faces of the men changed to grim resolve as they 
too caught sight of Follingsbee’s uncovered head. 
Fen-Sha pitched the driver headlong onto the 
ground, while Follingsbee, aware that the moment 
had come, sprang to his feet and hit to the right 
and left with such vigorous purpose, the men 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 435 

balanced on the sides of the cart fell off. The 
fight was now on again in more deadly earnest than 
before. Others in the market attracted by the 
yells rushed to learn the cause of the fray and 
learning joined lustily in it with the hope of 
sharing in the reward. 

If the elements themselves had not that moment 
come to the assistance of the two friends fighting 
for their lives, their fate would have been sealed. 

The wind, which had begun to blow violently, 
of a sudden increased in fury. The sky still 
remained cloudless, but its yellow tinge had turned 
a deeper hue and looked opaque as if a thick 
curtain had been drawn across the entire breadth 
of the heavens. This curtain now descended 
and was transformed into minute particles of 
sand which stung the faces of men and beasts 
with whiplash fierceness. Whirl clouds of dust 
grew into enormous columns carrying up with 
them the refuse of Peking’s streets to mingle with 
the sand from the great Gobi desert. This ag- 
glomeration was dashed about like the waves of a 
sea in a hurricane. The air became so thick it 
was difficult to distinguish an object a few 
paces distant. The shouts of the people rushing 
for shelter, mingled with the whistling of the 
wind. Men crouched beside their camels; most 
of these beasts had dropped on their knees and 
stretched their long necks close to the ground. 
Instinct taught them what was best to do. 

Riders of mules and horses threw their arms 


436 The Breath of the Dragon 


across their eyes and dashed blindly through the 
market, indifferent to the cries, if indeed they 
heard them, of those who were knocked down 
beneath the hoofs of their animals. Never had 
Peking known such a sandstorm, and only travellers 
crossing the great deserts of the north had wit- 
nessed the like before. 

The fighters were hitting out blindly, scarce able 
to see for the dust and sand flints in their eyes. 
Suddenly the shouts of the men leading the 
Bactrian camel rose above the yells of the fighters. 

Lla had broken loose from the rope and with 
long, swinging, incredibly swift strides was bearing 
down upon them. On her back, leaning far over, 
whispering in her ear, was the fat little Mongol. 

Some of the fighters were tramped upon by the 
flying hoofs of the Bactrian beast; others were 
kicked. Among the latter was the driver who had 
made himself leader of the mob around the cart. 
He had no more stomach for blows, his own 
having been knocked in. 

Amid the wild confusion caused by Lla’s plunge 
Fen-Sha and Follingsbee leaped from the cart. 
A moment after, they disappeared in the dust 
clouds sweeping through the Mongol market 
while the hoarse-throated roar of the men vainly 
pursuing them was lost in the great wind from the 
Gobi desert smiting the four corners of Peking. 

A few hours later on the road which passes the 
Ming Tombs, many miles north of Peking, a 
Bactrian racing camel with curious black streaks 


Because of Lla the Bactrian Camel 437 

on her huge dirty white body might have been 
seen running like the wind. The fat little Mongol 
on her back was smiling happily. 

Far away, in the opposite direction, a boat was 
gliding swiftly down the Pei-ho. On the mat- 
covered deck, hand in hand, sat Fen-Sha and 
A-lu-te. They too were smiling happily. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


ON THE CITY WALL 

The sand storm which blew over Peking that 
morning threatened to spoil the picnic-tea Princess 
Pontioff was giving on the Tartar City wall. The 
storm, however, though sharp and fierce, was of 
short duration and the guests, leaving their 
ponies at the foot of the esplanade, merrily 
mounted the wall to join their hostess. But 
Betty’s gaiety was forced. The German Charge 
d’ Affaires commented about it in a low voice to 
the Princess. She threw a kindly glance at 
the girl. “I hear her father contemplates sending 
her home to complete her education,” she said. 
“She does not want to go. An education seems 
to her a superfluous adjunct to a pleasant life. 
Perhaps she is right; who knows? I am myself 
fairly happy, yet never have I mastered the 
multiplication table!” And the Princess smiled 
as she sipped her tea. 

“ By-the-way , ” remarked a young Customs 
man to the company in general, “have any of 
you heard about the plucky Chinese chap who 
rode a racing camel to Tientsin and by presenting 
438 


On the City Wall 


439 


a fraudulent imperial decree effected the escape of 
the reformer Fen-Sha, condemned to die that 
very day?” 

“ Really !” said the Princess voicing the languid 
interest of her guests; “do tell us about it.” 

A pronounced characteristic of foreign society 
in the Chinese capital was its indifference to, even 
ignorance of, events which took place as it were 
under its very nose. If new concessions were 
granted to foreign countries, or reparation 
demanded for injuries done missionaries, mer- 
chants, or travellers, or if trade privileges were 
wrung from the reluctant Yamen by a rival 
state, if any or all of these things occurred, diplo- 
matic society in Peking knew about it and was 
interested or not according to the degree of 
importance attached to each fact. 

But of affairs pertaining exclusively to the 
Chinese themselves, foreign society did not trouble 
its head. So it happened that while every Pek- 
ingese of high or low estate was discussing the 
extraordinary escape from prison of the great 
reformer Fen-Sha and the capture of the notorious 
but unknown camel rider in the Mongol market 
that morning, it remained for a youthful Customs 
man at a picnic-tea to express the first mild 
interest of foreigners in either event. 

Only Betty evinced a keen desire to hear his 
remarks. She leaned forward eagerly to listen. 

“Sing, my house-boy, is my informant,” he 
continued; “he says in the tea-houses nothing 


440 


The Breath of the Dragon 


else has been talked of for the past three days. 
Tonight there will be an exciting climax to discuss, 
for it is reported that this morning the fellow was 
caught in the Mongol market with his camel, 
which he had stained black. If true, of course 
he will be decapitated. I never thought I would 
care a brass farthing whether a pigtailed China- 
man got his celestial head chopped off or not, 
but, by Jove, I would jolly well like to hear this 
chap was out of the clutches of the officials.” 

“I believe there is a curious report circulating 
around that the camel rider was not a Chinese,” 
said the first secretary of the French Legation. 

Betty caught her breath sharply and turned 
pale. 

“Whether he is a Chinaman, Jap, Corean,^ or 
native of Timbuctoo doesn’t much matter, for 
tomorrow he’ll be clay anyway,” asserted the 
young Customs man. 

Betty’s pallor became more pronounced. Cap- 
tain Bertram was seated beside her; he regarded 
her anxiously. “Oh, I say! You mustn’t take 
the affair so much to heart. The Chinese courts 
are always executing men you know, and besides,” 
he added quickly, for Betty was looking at him 
with eyes big with a dreadful horror, “besides, 
the fellow isn’t dead yet you know.” 

She staggered to her feet. “It’s — it's getting 
close again,” she gasped. 

“What a tender-hearted little girl you are!” 
he mentally commented. Aloud he said, “Yes, 


On the City Wall 


441 


beastly close,” ignoring the fact that the air was 
as always after a sand storm singularly clear and 
fresh. 

Betty leaned on the parapet and gazed with 
unseeing eyes on the street below. The road 
stretching along this portion of the Tartar City 
wall was the least frequented of any in the capital. 
It was deserted now except for the mafoos in 
charge of the ponies. Bertram talked of the 
tennis match soon to come off, of the “minstrel 
show” to be given by a half score of English 
Legation students, who, he laughingly assured 
Betty, had never seen a “nigger” in their lives 
and much less knew how they talked. 

While he was engaged in efforts to divert her, 
he saw in the distance a Chinese turn into the 
street below. The man was running like a streak, 
his long legs leaping over the ground. Fifteen 
or twenty Chinese were in hot pursuit, yelling 
loudly. His eyes were bulging; flecks of foam 
trickled from his mouth. 

“By Jove!” exclaimed Bertram, watching him, 
“what a sprinter! Didn't know a Chinaman 
could go like that. Runs as though he had been 
trained on a 'varsity track team. See how 
his legs go high out in front and not far out behind 
and how his arms move in unison with them!” 

The shouts of the men as they drew nearer 
became more distinct. The mafoos jumped 
from their squatting positions by the ponies, with 
evident intention of intercepting the racer. 


442 


The Breath of the Dragon 


Betty, watching it all, felt a sudden tightening 
in her throat without knowing why. “What are 
they calling?” she asked. 

Bertram leaned far over the parapet straining 
to catch the words. “As I’m living! they’re 
saying he is the camel rider for whose capture 
five hundred taels have been offered!” 

Betty’s face went perfectly white. 

“Oh, Captain Bertram, save him! Save him!” 
she cried. Her blue eyes were raised imploringly 
to his face; her own was drawn with terror. “He 
is — ” she whispered through parched lips — “he is 
J ohn Follingsbee ! ’ ’ 

Sudden comprehension came to Bertram. He 
looked into Betty’s agonized face, then without a 
word tore down the esplanade near which they 
had been standing. 

Betty’s intuitions were right. When Follings- 
bee returned to the capital after seeing A-lu-te 
and Fen-Sha safely embarked on the river, he 
was recognized by a man who had helped in his 
capture in the Mongol market that morning. 
The fellow gave the alarm and the chase began. 
Follingsbee could have outstripped his pursuers 
had not others, attracted by their cries, constantly 
taken the place of those who dropped behind. 

The mafoos, seized with the contagion of the 
man chase and stimulated by the knowledge 
of the reward, stood ready to intercept him. 

Follingsbee raised his bulging, bloodshot eyes 
and saw them. He felt then that the race for his 


On the City Wall 


443 

life was lost. Behind him the pursuers were 
gaining. At this moment Bertram reached the 
street. 

“Get my horse!” he shouted to his mafoo. 
“Take him to the middle of the road and wait. 
Be quick! I’ll divide five hundred taels among 
every mafoo here if this. man escapes!” 

Even as he shouted he ran to meet Follingsbee 
and turning again he kept alongside of him setting 
the pace for the panting racer. 

“It’s all right, old man!” he encouraged him. 
“Keep it up just a little longer. Don’t drop, 
don’t drop! don't drop! A-ah! here’s the horse. 
N ow ! Ready ! Mount ! ’ ’ 

With an almost superhuman effort Follingsbee, 
whose breath was coming in short painful gasps, 
leaped into the saddle. Bertram struck the horse 
a stinging blow on his haunches and the animal 
tore down the street. After that Bertram turned 
and coolly faced the mob now screaming furiously 
and vowing to be avenged upon him. Something 
in the young Englishman’s nonchalant bearing, 
together with the cold menace in his eyes, caused 
them to hesitate as they drew near. And when 
the mafoos — there were eight of them and all with 
whipvS — reviled them lustily, told them they were 
fools, that their brains had been drawn through 
their ears in infancy, that the escaped man was 
not the camel rider, but a mafoo like themselves 
and in the employ of the English Legation and 
well they knew that no Englishman allows his 


444 The Breath of the Dragon 


servants to be molested by such pigs, rats, scor- 
pions as they were, they turned and departed quite 
tranquilly. There are no people on the face of 
the globe who can pass from fierce anger to un- 
ruffled composure with the unblinking rapidity 
of the Chinese. 

While Bertram again mounted the esplanade 
the mafoos put their heads together and calcu- 
lated to a nicety how many times the numeral 
eight divided the numeral five hundred. They 
did not care a beggar’s clap-bowl whether the 
man was the camel rider or not, nor why the 
Englishman had helped him escape. The English, 
they agreed, were a notoriously queer, incom- 
prehensible people and the only definite fact about 
them was their word. Once given, it could be 
relied upon like fate or death or the ethics of 
Confucius. 

Up on the wall the other men were rushing to 
Bertram’s assistance, when they saw the mob 
quietly depart. 

“What was the row?” they asked as he joined 
them. 

t “Only a poor devil racing for his life,” he 
answered. 

“You’ll never see your horse again,” Prince 
Pontioff assured him. 

“Rather think I will. D’ye see, I know the 
man — made a mistake about him once and — er, 
well, I was glad of a chance to help him.” 

“Is he safe now?” The question leaped from 


On the City Wall 


445 


Betty’s quivering lips like a cry. She had watched 
the race with hands gripped tightly together, 
paralyzed into complete silence by her terror 
for Follingsbee. Her voice, which she struggled 
hard to make steady, sounded strange to her 
own ears. 

Bertram glanced at her with swift scrutiny and 
his face twitched as if with sudden pain. 

4 ‘Quite safe, ,r he answered quietly. 

She trembled with relief and Bertram managed 
to divert attention from her by challenging the 
Prince to wager that his horse would be found in 
the stables on the morrow. 

Soon afterwards the picnickers returned home. 
When Mr. Danford heard the story of Follings- 
bee’s escape and much else besides from Betty 
— she sobbed it all out with her head buried in 
his waistcoat — he exclaimed, “Child! Child! 
Why have you kept silent all this time? A few 
words would have explained everything and 
prevented us from misjudging and discrediting 
Mr. Follingsbee !” 

“ Because, ” sobbed Betty, “because he made me 
promise not to tell ; he was afraid of compromising 
you with the Chinese Government.” 

“Good Lord! And we have been treating him 
more or less like a pariah !” ejaculated the Minister 
ruefully. 

“I didn’t!” Betty reminded him proudly, 
lifting her tear-stained face. 

“No,” admitted her father with a slow reflective 


446 The Breath of the Dragon 


smile. “Now that I think of it, I believe you 
didn’t. 

Follingsbee did not come to the American 
Legation that night. Instead he wrote Betty 
a note which brought the roses radiantly to her 
cheeks. 

She slept with the note tucked carefully under 
her pillow and dreamed of paradise. 

The next morning Follingsbee called on Mr. 
Danford. He remained in the Minister’s office 
upwards of half an hour. 

Betty was sure of this because she was watching 
the timepiece on the drawing-room table. When 
the round face of the clock — looking for all the 
world like a lover’s full moon — showed three 
minutes past the half hour, the office door leading 
into the drawing-room opened and John Follings- 
bee came in. His face, with its look of quick 
intelligence, strong will, and calm valour, had new 
lines carved deep upon it, lines that are modelled 
on the human countenance not by the great 
sculptor Time, but by the heart and soul of a 
man who has achieved his purpose by playing 
perilously with death the while. 

Betty rose at his entrance, then stood still, her 
cheeks aflame like roses in a June garden, her 
breath fluttering, her eyes hidden under their 
dark lashes. Follingsbee came swiftly toward 
her and caught both her hands in his. Still she 
did not move or speak. 

“Betty!” he cried, in his voice the sharp pain of 


On the City Wall 


447 


sudden doubt. She raised her eyes then that he 
might see, and for one long lover’s moment he 
held her close. 

Then Betty slipped like a dream from his arms. 
“I am so happy,” she said, “that it hurts.” 

“Let me kiss the hurt, sweetheart,” he laughed 
joyously, and bending his head he kissed her. 


THE END 




















































































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